Chances
by Fate Harbor
Summary: *Turning out of Craig's embrace and massaging his forehead, Tweek let out a humorless laugh. "Jesus Christ, Craig. It's been over a year and you still don't get it." "Get what?" Craig asked, confused. "Why I left!" Tweek shouted.* Tweek's had enough. Can Craig win him back? CraigxTweek! Please read and review!
1. Wasted Chance

**Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine, I just happen to have fallen in love with them :) **

**Okay, so if this story looks familiar, it's because it got deleted and now I'm reposting it. Just an FYI!**

**Enjoy, folks!**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Tweek stared into the expanse of white horizon surrounding Stark's Pond, his mood more reflective than it had ever been. Usually, he avoided his internal world at all costs, preferring to preoccupy himself with imaginary, external dangers. But everyone has a point at which they are forced from their comfort zone, when life demands that they just_ stop_ and think for once. So here he was. It was the middle of the day; the sky was dark gray and blinding white in turns, depending on whether the sun was shining from behind the clouds. Though it was May, snow fell around him in flurries, blown by a cold but thankfully light breeze. It had been pouring down steadily the whole time he'd been there. Minutes? Hours? It was hard to tell, though the growing layers of snow surrounding him could have provide an answer if he'd bothered to think about it at all. His eyes moved sluggishly across the scenery, passing over the frozen pond, brittle trees and thick blankets of snow, but not really seeing any of it. His slow-blinking eyelids were heavy; his face, blank. He sat. He watched. He thought.

A heavy object, both in weight and symbolism, rested beside him on the snow covered bench. His eyes drifted to it thoughtfully every few minutes as he sat and contemplated evil. A strange thing to be thinking about, sure, but then the world was full of evils for Tweek. He almost longed for the days when running out of coffee and having his underwear stolen were the most terrifying things he could imagine. But with age came wisdom and at eighteen, he had more world-weary wisdom than he could handle. He was constantly told by his parents that he hadn't even experienced real life yet and what a horrible thought that was. He was certain he couldn't take any of the wisdom the future had in store for him, considering all the insight he'd gained thus far had been obtained through devastating experiences.

He was strangely still, despite the cold and his own twitchy nature. His mind was already in a place where it had shut down every thought except the decision at hand; it appeared his body was doing the same and conserving his energy. He was tired…so tired of so many things. He was tired of being hurt. He was tired of _letting _himself be hurt. He was tired of feeling like he was wasting his time and living without purpose. He was tired of being weak and afraid. He was tired of not knowing how to change any of it.

His parents didn't care about him, but he'd accepted that a long time ago. His mother drowned her past regrets in wine, too consumed with her own problems to notice, let alone care, about Tweek's. His father was a workaholic, a master of avoidance and convinced of his own simplistic delusions: fantasies that his wife was just a contented homemaker and his son was just a normal boy, if slightly hyper.

Kids at school didn't care about him, but he preferred it that way. They'd grown tired of picking on him sometime in middle school – he was too easy for their evolving tastes in cruelty, he guessed – and were content to simply ignore him now. That suited him just fine. He'd gotten a decent handle on his stuttering, which now only came out when he was completely, off-the-deep-end paranoid. His random outbursts were far less frequent, his twitching was more subtle and though he never did master buttons, he'd switched to t-shirts instead. He wasn't as noticeable a target anymore and his efforts had paid off. He still got the attention that everyone did – on the bell curve that was sweetness-to-malice, he still received Butters' polite greetings and Cartman's cookie-cutter insults. Not much effort was put into either and so he faded to the background of everyone's mind.

Except Craig's. They'd gotten together in sophomore year and in the beginning, it was wonderful. The quiet didn't bother Tweek because Craig was nearly telepathic with those quicksilver eyes of his. Every tender thought and admission of love that he couldn't say out loud was still clear as day to Tweek, who read it all in the eyes of the one he loved. It was clear Craig cared about him in the way he'd hold his hand through the halls, flipping off anyone that dared to stare. It was obvious in the way he'd hold Tweek through his panic attacks or bring an extra thermos of coffee to school, just for him. Tweek trusted him implicitly, in a way no one else had bothered to earn. He loved Craig's protectiveness, his dry humor, the incredible depth of feeling he didn't know how to show, his surprising compassion for animals and small children, and his outright inability to give a shit about others' opinions of him.

He still loved those things, even though they'd disappeared some time ago. The once expressive slate-colored eyes were now dull and uninterested when directed at him. He hadn't been held in Craig's arms in so long, the noirette just scoffing and rolling his eyes when Tweek's paranoia consumed him. There were no chill-inducing grins thrown his way and no calloused, warm hand searching out his own anymore. They were still together, though it was hardly the same. But Tweek could handle that because it was _Craig_ and he loved Craig. He certainly didn't want to be without him.

But when that cool apathy took on an undertone of cruelty, Tweek didn't know what to do. It seemed like a game to the older boy, to see how far he could push the blonde before he would break. Tweek had given his trust so freely to Craig that he wondered if the other boy even knew how hard it was for anyone else to earn. Tweek somehow didn't think so. If Craig had even the slightest idea, he wouldn't have abused that trust so thoroughly. It started with unkind teasing, which lead to veiled verbal abuse, which lead to blatant insults…all of which Tweek took. It escalated from there…from flirting with others in front of him, to sexual innuendo, to Craig coming to his house reeking of sex, smoke and sweat. It hurt more than Tweek knew how to express, but still he took it.

The final straw – a point Tweek hadn't even known he was capable of reaching – had been last night, at Token's graduation party. It was nothing he hadn't been through before, though this was the first time he'd seen it with his own eyes. The party was in full swing and he'd lost Craig in the crowd when he'd stopped to chat with Pip. The two had developed a bond as overlooked, unworthy outcasts and had become best friends over the years. It had been a couple of weeks since they'd had a chance to talk alone and they took their time catching up. After Pip bid him a cheery goodbye and made a beeline for Damien, Tweek had searched out his own wayward boyfriend.

And found him…in a dark corner, making out with Clyde. Clyde, being pressed between the wall and Craig's body, had been the first to notice him from over Craig's shoulder. His eyes widened and he had the decency to look guilty. Pushing Craig off of him, a _very_ drunk Clyde immediately came in front of Tweek and grasped his shoulders, apologizing profusely and crying in that whiney way of his. Clyde, he could forgive. But Craig, having been caught red-handed in the act of cheating, just looked bored and even a little annoyed. Like _Tweek_ was the asshole here for interrupting his good time. Craig had looked at him coolly, grabbed his wrist and led him out of the party.

"God damn it, Tweek, you ruin everything." he'd grumbled irritably. "I don't know why I bother with you."

He'd ushered Tweek into his car and driven him home. Tweek had lain awake all night, those words echoing in his head. Why _did_ Craig bother with him? Was it out of habit? Did it amuse him, seeing Tweek in pain and knowing he didn't have the strength to say anything? Did he get some twisted satisfaction from pushing Tweek past the breaking point repeatedly, only to find _good old Tweek_ still by his side and loyal as ever the next morning? It was mind-boggling. It was just plain evil.

Tweek was interrupted from his musings of the past as the sound of snow crunching underfoot reached his ears. A dark figure sat down next to him on the bench, the smell of ash and spice alerting him to the mysterious man's identity.

"Why do people do evil things?" Tweek asked quietly, still looking over the frozen pond. "You must have some kind of insight on the subject, all things considered."

Damien glanced at the blonde next to him, surprised at the question. He knew what must have prompted it, of course. Everyone knew. Craig had almost made a sport out of hurting Tweek and the whole class had a quiet, unspoken pity for the twitchy boy. No one ever bothered to step in, though. Damien had thought about it. Tweek was his boyfriend's best friend, Damien himself had a soft spot for the endearing spaz and he'd never really liked Craig anyway. But, surprisingly, Pip had stopped him. _If someone else always saves him, he'll never learn how to save himself. Let him be, love. He's stronger than you think._ Damien had his doubts about that but, glancing at the bulky object beside Tweek on the bench, maybe he was about to be proved wrong.

Damien shrugged before responding to Tweek's question. "'The ways of Heaven are not for Man to know.'" the Anti-Christ quoted. "If Man isn't meant to know, then you can imagine how clueless those of us in Hell are."

Tweek stayed silent, so Damien continued.

"I do know that humanity is obsessed with morality, but not nearly as obsessed as they are with all the things that corrupt it. And I know that God and Love are one and the same, both working in mysterious and often very cruel ways. Both facts have a lot to do with the nature of evil." Damien said. Studying the boy next to him, the demon saw neither vulnerability nor strength in him. It was like he was _drained_. "He's really hurt you, hasn't he?"

Tweek turned to Damien, who was awestruck by the transparency of his light brown eyes. The look Tweek was giving him was impossible to define in common terms, but it was one that reflected how the blonde was at once breaking apart and pulling himself together at the same moment, over the same heartache. "I can handle being hurt." Tweek said plainly. "What I can't handle is not being loved."

"It takes a lot of strength to say you deserve more." Damien commented, amazed at how his boyfriend had seen this strength in Tweek all along.

Tweek snorted. "I'm running away from my problems. That's not strong or brave."

"You're getting yourself out of a bad situation and that _is_ brave." Damien insisted.

"I'm just tired of wasting my time on people who don't care about me." Tweek breathed out on an exhausted exhale.

"Then you should be with people who do care about you."

Tweek turned to him, the barest of smiles on his face. His body straightened and his posture held determination, as though he'd just made a resolute decision. "That's the idea." he said, rising from his seat and dusting off the snow-covered object lying beside him. Pulling the large suitcase up by the handle, he stood it upright before coming in front of Damien and reaching down to wrap his arms around the dark boy.

"Goodbye, Damien."

Damien returned the hug for a brief moment and then watched Tweek walk away, the suitcase being lugged awkwardly in the snow behind him. "Good luck, Tweek." he whispered to himself. Standing and brushing the snow off of his clothes, Damien made his way home. He was suddenly overcome by the urge to tell his own, sweet blonde how much he loved him, but even more than that, how much he appreciated him.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Craig walked to Tweek's house sedately, in no real hurry to get there. The blonde would probably be waiting for him quietly on the couch, whether he came now or a few hours from now. With his parents gone on vacation and high school over with, Tweek had nothing better to do with his time…not that he ever did. His world revolved around Craig and always had. It was a fact of life, one Craig had built his reality on: no matter what he did, Tweek would always be there for him. When they'd first gotten together, he'd treated that fact like the gift it was. He'd felt honored that such blind trust was bestowed on him, of all people. That someone as innocent and indisputably _good_ as Tweek saw him as worthy of such devotion had made Craig feel like the strongest person in the world. But then doubt had crept in…_why_ was Tweek so trusting of him? He certainly didn't deserve it. The slippery slope of taking Tweek for granted had started as an attempt to push him away, so he could find someone truly worthy of what he so naively gave to Craig. But the more he pushed, the firmer Tweek stood against the abuse…as though it was _worth it_ to endure such undeserved cruelty if it meant being with him.

And when his parents got divorced, Craig forgot that the only reason he started pushing in the first place was for Tweek's own good. Instead, he began using Tweek as a pressure valve, releasing all of his anger and negativity on the poor kid. Then it all just snowballed from there, becoming some sort of twisted experiment of Craig's newly jaded, cynical outlook: to see just how far he could take things. Tweek's trust became a blanket he grew to despise. His immediate acceptance of all of Craig's lies was astounding. Tweek was stupid if he didn't know the truth and pathetic if he did. Craig would say he was at the football game, when he _clearly_ smelled of sex, and Tweek would just look at him sadly before asking who won. A part of him was still the same Craig he was in the beginning. That Craig nearly wept every time Tweek turned those sad eyes on him, but then that Craig's shouting protests were drowned in another wave of apathy and invincibility. After all, Tweek would never leave him.

Approaching the door of Tweek's house, Craig saw an envelope taped to the door. He got close enough to knock before seeing it had his name written on it in Tweek's shaky scrawl. A deep trepidation hollowed out his stomach before he pushed the feeling aside in favor of annoyance. With a roll of his eyes and an impatient huff, he tore the envelope from the door and ripped it open. Pulling out a small slip of paper, he read the one line written on it and his blood went cold in his veins. His face paled and his eyes went wide with crippling fear as he re-read the haunting words.

_Just remember not to love me when I disappear._

Jerking the doorknob and throwing his body against the door of Tweek's house, he sprinted inside in alarm. It was dark, a good indication that Tweek was not there; he kept all the lights on when he was. Still, Craig ran frantically from the empty living room to the equally empty kitchen. Without thinking, he took the stairs two and three at a time until he was at the doorway of Tweek's room. At first glance, Craig could see his closet was empty of all his favorite clothes, only the things he never wore remained. His laptop was gone, as was his old-fashioned, bell-and-hammer alarm clock. Desperation was starting to take over; Craig's eyes were wide with dread. Ripping through the drawers of Tweek's dresser, he saw more missing clothes. Tearing out of the room and into the bathroom only confirmed that his toothbrush, comb and razor were gone, too.

Tears pricked at Craig's eyes and his breathing was labored and loud in his ears.

"God, no, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. He can't be gone. He can't!" Craig panicked, his eyes darting madly and one hand fisted in his black hair. "Where would he go? Who would he –"

Craig cut himself off at the realization.

"Pip." It was the last thing Craig said before running out of the house, not stopping until he was pounding on the door of the British boy's home.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Damien woke up with a start and, after a moment of confusion, he glanced over to see Pip sleeping peacefully at his side. Damien smirked; the poor kid was probably still worn out from earlier. After returning home from his odd encounter with Tweek, he'd rushed in and immediately buried his face into Pip's lap as the confused lad sat on the couch. Damien knew how easily it might have been Pip on that bench, how little it would take for him and Pip to end up like Craig and Tweek. He could be mean and thoughtless and cold, just like Craig, but the thought of Pip ever being as hurt as Tweek, ever _leaving_ him because of it had the demon's breath coming out in shaky bursts against the Brit's slacks. He wasn't one for words and didn't show his appreciation for the blonde nearly as often as he should, but he pushed past his discomfort and everything he loved and needed in Pip had come out in a rushed, frantic confession. When he'd finally looked up, Pip gave him a watery, beautiful smile and _attacked_ him, smothering his face with kisses and whispering his own words of love. They had come together desperately, again and again…and twice more after that.

A frenzied pounding on his front door, the cause of his premature awakening, had the smirk sliding off of Damien's face. He carefully extricated himself from Pip's grasp. Luckily, Pip was a heavy sleeper and the loud knocking didn't even cause him to stir. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a white, ribbed tank-top, he made his way down the stairs. The pace of the knocking had only gotten faster and louder, the spastic rhythm making him think that maybe it was Tweek, despite the finality of his goodbye. Swinging the door open, Damien's face went slack with shock.

He'd never seen Craig look anything other than apathetic or annoyed, but the kid was borderline hysterical at the moment. He was panting heavily, his face red from running through the chilling cold outside. Tear tracks were frozen onto his face; his eyes were wild and bloodshot with panic. A crinkled envelope was crushed in his tight grasp. Craig barreled past him into the house, searching the living room frantically with his eyes.

"Where is he? Where's Tweek?" Craig half pleaded, half demanded, already moving into the den to continue his search.

"He's not here." Damien responded.

"Bullshit!" Craig spat. "I know he's here! Where else would he go?"

"Anywhere that's away from you." Damien scowled.

Craig stormed toward Damien and gripped his shirt in his fists, shaking him slightly. "You tell me where the fuck Tweek is _right now_ or so help me God, I will send you to your Dad the old-fashioned way, you fucking asshole!"

"Don't push me, _mortal_, or I'll do the same." Damien growled dangerously, shoving Craig until the back of his knees hit the couch and he fell onto it gracelessly. "Tweek's not here."

"Then where the hell is he?" Craig yelled.

"Keep your fucking voice down." Damien snarled. "I don't know where he went, I just know he left."

"You talked to him?" Craig asked desperately. "When? Is he okay?"

"He's pretty fucking far from okay after all you've put him through, asshole."

"I didn't mean it, shit, I didn't want to hurt him." Craig muttered, head in his hands. "God, doesn't he know he's fucking _everything_ to me? I love him, damn it! He's the only good thing I've ever had! He can't leave me!"

"What did you expect?" Damien asked, annoyed.

"I didn't expect him to leave!" Craig shouted, his voice cracking.

"Well, you should have." Damien said, feeling no sympathy for the boy in front of him. "You deserve this, you know. You deserve everything you're feeling for the way you treated him. Hell, you deserve to be _shot_ for the way you treated him. You drove him away. _You_. Any decent human being wouldn't hurt the person they love so carelessly."

"Yeah, 'cause you're such a relationship guru." Craig sneered. "I don't think you qualify as decent _or_ as a human being."

"At least I recognize a good thing when I have it." Damien shot back. "Let's compare, shall we? _My_ boyfriend is upstairs asleep after four heartfelt, mind-blowing bouts of sex. Last time I saw him, _your_ boyfriend was trying to make sense of everything he's been through by contemplating how evil you are. Whatever conclusion he came to obviously wasn't in your favor because then he fucking _left_, dragging a suitcase behind him toward the edge of town!"

"He was?" Craig paled. "Oh, fuck…the bus station!"

Craig jumped up from the couch and ran for the door. As he passed through the entryway, a pale, slender hand grasped his arm in a surprisingly firm grip. Craig looked from the hand restraining him to Pip's angelic face which was, for once, not smiling.

"Get the hell off me, Pip! I have to find Tweek!" Craig shouted, trying to pull away. Pip dragged him back to the living room with quiet strength and determination before sitting Craig back down on the couch.

"You'll do no such thing." Pip stated quietly, but with firm finality.

"The fuck I won't!" Craig screamed. He tried to rise, but found himself pushed back down, this time by Damien. The demon's red-eyed glare kept him from trying again. When his protests had died down and silence permeated the room, Pip addressed him with a tone so soft, it couldn't help but command attention.

"You'll not go after Tweek. You'll not call him or try to find him or bother him at all from this point forward. You destroyed that boy and the only way he'll be able to put himself back together is if you stay far away from him. You make him forget his own strength because you overpower him with yours. He deserves to find happiness and no matter how much you love him, you know he won't find it with you."

"I did make him happy." Craig protested weakly.

"In the beginning." Pip conceded. "But half the things he loved about you disappeared and the other half were twisted and perverted by your own pain. You can't be with him, Craig. You're toxic to him and to yourself. I know he loved you deeply and if you love him now, if you ever loved him at all, you'll let him go. Not because it's what you want, but because it's what's best for him."

"But…" A dry sob escaped Craig. "But what do I do without him?"

Pip smiled down on him gently, benevolently, like a saint forgiving a sinner. "_Grow_ from this, Craig. Don't let the memories of him fester and turn dark inside of you, but honor them by rediscovering the man you were when he fell in love with you. Work to become a man that might someday be worthy of him."

The weight of his selfish choices and malicious actions crashed down on Craig. Pain too terrible to imagine shattered through every nerve and fiber inside of him. His body convulsed as dry heaves gripped his stomach and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. Sobs were ripped harshly from his arid, aching throat and tears stung his dry eyes like chlorine. He collapsed into himself like a burned-out star, his awareness focused so internally that he didn't even notice when Pip cradled him gently in his arms or when Damien left for the kitchen, uncomfortable around such raw emotion. All of the pain, anger and self-loathing normally hidden by his blank, gray eyes flowed out of him like blood, thick and rank. He cried like he'd never cried before, like he never even thought himself capable of. He cried the tears of a man who has no one to blame but himself for the hell he's created and must now live in. He cried with such force, his body was shaking from the strain of exertion and his mind felt fuzzy and clouded.

He cried himself to sleep.

But as his subconscious absorbed Pip's advice, his eyes moved rapidly under his lids, dreaming of a time when Tweek would love him again.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Please Read and Review!**


	2. Another Chance

**Disclaimer: not mine.**

**Thanks to everyone who put this story on favorite or alert and a HUGE thanks to HappyNoodleGirl666 and AzymuiChan for reviewing the first chapter! You guys ROCK! Now…on with the show!**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

_**One Year Later…**_

Tweek smiled at the waitress in thanks as she poured him another cup of coffee while he waited for his friend. It felt weird being back in South Park, but it also felt right. It was his home, after all. He'd been away for a year, staying with his aunt in Denver and attending community college there. He couldn't tell which had more of an impact on him. He loved his Aunt Charlotte more than his own parents, probably always had. He used to spend his summers with her as a small child and always stayed with her over the holiday breaks during school. She was a new-age type: spiritual, open-minded and non-judgmental. She loved him for him and never tried to change him, but always encouraged him when he wanted to change himself. Her love and experience had been invaluable to him over the past year. She'd been in an abusive marriage before Tweek was even born, so knew the emotional ruin he was faced with. She guided him through the treacherous maze of his own doubts and insecurities with grace and compassion, supporting him throughout, but giving him enough space to grow in his own direction.

School had helped with that a lot. Ironically, trying to figure out Craig's actions had led him to his true passion: cultural anthropology. The study of how humans behave, why people do what they do and how those actions are supported by the framework of the societies they grow up in fascinated him. Throwing himself into his studies, he thrived and his confidence grew by leaps and bounds. He was no longer a backdrop for the other students, constantly passed by but never really seen. People were now coming to _him_, attracted by his spastic enthusiasm and infectious passion for the subject matter. He had unique insights into the nature of sub-cultures, having always been an outsider himself. That came through in his papers and presentations, impressing his professors and getting him several letters of recommendation for when he finished his AA degree and transferred to a four-year college.

He even had a relationship, a normal one! No, Danny wasn't his soul mate, but it was still a great experience. They'd met in class and were in the same study group. Those group settings had easily transitioned into one-on-one study sessions and those had turned into casual dates. They dated for three months, taking pleasure in each other's company and living in the moment. The initial infatuation eventually faded and fizzled, the brief relationship ending with them parting as friends. It was all so easy. No drama or pain or heartache, exactly what he had needed at the time.

He was still Tweek, just more comfortable in his own skin. Instead of ducking in embarrassment when some random outburst escaped him, he laughed it off with a self-deprecating grin. He'd gotten better at pulling himself together after succumbing to a bout of paranoia and not feeling so ashamed once it had passed. One of the many things he'd grown tired of in his old life was apologizing for who he was. No longer, though. Despite his flaws, he liked who he was now and knew quite a few people who felt the same way. He'd gotten to a point of self-acceptance where he didn't need anyone else's approval, but it was nice being recognized and loved for who he was. He was a stronger person and would never let himself play the victim again. He may still be a paranoid, twitchy, coffee-addicted spaz, but he was done being weak.

He was glad that his old friends had accepted the new him, too. Pip was overjoyed with his growth and Damien was quietly proud. He'd even made friends with kids from South Park that he'd never been close to before. Kenny's brother had moved to Denver after high school and Kenny moved in with him right after graduation, helping him as a mechanic in his boss's garage. They met during the summer by chance and Tweek had convinced Kenny to go to school at the same community college. It took him until winter quarter to save up the money, but he ended up taking a wide array of classes and was still trying to find his niche. They'd grown quite close, Kenny's friendship being another reason for his boost in confidence. Kenny had connected him to Stan and Kyle, both of whom were studying at the University of Colorado, and the four got together every couple of weeks to catch up over drinks.

No one ever mentioned Craig to him and he never asked. Not that he didn't want to know; quite the opposite, he was _dying_ to know, but it was still dangerous ground. He'd made such great progress but part of him was terrified that one mention of him or one look into his silver eyes would reduce him to the same, helpless boy he used to be. Or worse, he'd fall right back in love with him. One thing he'd learned about himself was that he had amazing powers of repression. When he was with Craig, he had repressed _staggering_ amounts of pain and hurt, amounts that would cripple most people. And now that he was without Craig, those impressive talents of repression were simply refocused until the equally staggering feelings of love he still harbored for the boy were just a whisper in his subconscious. He didn't _want_ to be in love with Craig, but if he knew how to fall out of love…well, then he'd be God, wouldn't he?

Denver had gotten expensive, so he'd decided to strike out on his own and get an apartment here in town with a friend. He already had a job in his dad's coffee shop and then he'd be attending Park County Community College in the fall. Yes, he was still in love with Craig. But that little hiccup aside, life was good. He took a sip of his hot, sweet coffee and let out a contented sigh.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Damien entered the restaurant behind Craig, the two taking a seat at their usual table. They didn't bother taking up the menus, both being fans of routine and consistently ordering the same thing every Sunday morning. Instead they just waited in silence for their waitress.

Damien glanced over at Craig, shaking his head at the oddity that was _them_. Before Tweek had left, they never liked each other. They were forced to spend time together, since their boyfriends were best friends, but they were both Alpha males with a general dislike for the bulk of humanity, each other included. Not exactly a recipe for instant friendship. On a good day, they tolerated each other. On a bad day, they were closer to homicide than a handshake.

Even now, Damien couldn't say that he really _liked_ Craig. More like…he was used to him. After the kid's horrendously awkward breakdown at his house, Pip had unilaterally decided in that quiet yet unyielding way of his that Craig needed support. Damien was more than happy to leave the prick to his personal demons and pray to his father that they destroyed him like he'd destroyed Tweek. Forgiveness wasn't his thing. But Pip – kindhearted, merciful Pip – had insisted on the point. Craig received invites to dinner at their house, but it was clear being around them was painful – even Damien could admit there were definite similarities between his relationship with Pip and Craig's relationship with Tweek. So, they took to spending time with him separately.

Craig was closer to Pip and they met at least three times a week: lunch, tea, a movie, or whatever. Pip became like a mother hen to Craig, giving quiet sage advice when it was needed or just taking the boy's mind off of his troubles for an afternoon. It wasn't a friendship based on words – no friendship with Craig ever was – but Pip had a natural talent for reading the needs of sullen, damaged men. He carried the conversations, just blathering on about everything and nothing, but there was a certain comfort to be had in the rhythm of his speech, his animated gestures and expressions, and the happiness that permeated his presence. Craig's input wasn't required, but it was welcomed on the rare occasions he chose to participate. In the beginning, Damien had feared that Craig's attentions would turn to Pip – after all, how could anyone _not_ fall in love with him? Being so alike, he guessed that Craig's tastes ran similar to his own and he'd always had a thing for pure, innocent savior types. But as Damien began to spend more time with Craig, it was obvious that his fellow noirette was more deeply in love with Tweek than ever.

He only started hanging out with Craig for one very simple reason: he really, _really _liked having sex with his boyfriend. He didn't think Pip would purposefully withhold sex from him as punishment for not going along with his idea. More likely, he'd be so consumed with worry over the situation with Craig that he wouldn't be in the mood, but the result would be the same: no sex for Damien. So, Damien had shown up on his doorstep early one Sunday morning. When Craig had opened the door, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, Damien had just growled, "Get dressed, asshole. We're going to breakfast."

And so the Sunday Morning Breakfast tradition was born. At first, the only pleasure he got out of the meetings was amusement at the delicious irony of the situation. To think that all along, _Craig_ was the weak one of the relationship. Tweek may have been the abused, but there was no denying that the kid was incredibly resilient. That internal well of strength was helping him to grow and thrive in Denver; he sounded happier every time he and Pip spoke with him. Craig, on the other hand, didn't have near the spirit that Tweek did. It delighted Damien to see that, after all his attempts to break Tweek, he was the one who ended up broken while Tweek was blossoming without him. It was justice, sharp and pitiless.

But the more time he spent with Craig, the more obvious it became that he had really taken Pip's advice to heart. When he wasn't wallowing in self-pity, the guy was making an honest effort toward getting his life back on track. He was still an unflappable, distant asshole to most people. As always, his middle finger was his predominate mode of communication, he smoked like a chimney and his eyes rarely showed more than cool disinterest. But he wouldn't be Craig without those things. Still, the changes in him were at once subtle and immense.

He practically lived at the town's animal shelter, starting as a volunteer and then being hired on as the vet's assistant. He had a natural gift with animals; they responded well to him, with his steady hands, coarse voice and even composure. He went to the local community college and took it seriously, wanting to become a veterinarian. True, he was still only a slightly-above-average student, but he was trying. The fact that he was interested in a field that required all of the compassion and care he possessed was telling, at least to Damien. Craig treated Pip well, displaying protective concern and patient indulgence for the bubbly Brit. He stopped partying and, as far as Damien knew, hadn't been with anyone since Tweek left. He never asked about Tweek, but it was clear Craig was still hopelessly in love with him. He'd taken to carrying the envelope containing Tweek's last words to him in his inside jacket pocket wherever he went. He developed a habit of clutching his coat at that spot in critical moments, like whenever he missed Tweek. Or when he was faced with a decision, his hand flew to his heart where the letter rested as if asking himself, 'what would Tweek want me to do?' or 'what would make Tweek proud?'. It was nauseatingly sentimental of him, but whatever got the kid through the day.

"How's work been?" Craig broke the silence in his nasally monotone voice.

Damien shrugged. "Welcomed a few thousand new sinners to Hell. Set Saddam on fire again. Same old, same old."

"If I could set Saddam Hussein on fire, I would be _so_ happy." Craig said longingly, chin resting on his hand.

"I'll be sure to save you a turn when you come to Hell." Damien smirked.

"Wicked." Craig gave a lop-sided grin back.

"You're not concerned that you're going to Hell?"

"Not really. You go to Heaven for the climate, but Hell for the company. I always wanted to meet George Carlin."

"George is cool. Shit, put him and Belushi together and it's like insta-party." Damien said. "You've got to meet Ip Man, though. That guy is a total badass."

"If he's half as awesome as his movies, I'm sure he's the shit."

"What about you, man, how's the shelter?"

"Good. Learned how to set a broken bone the other day. It makes an awesome crunching sound."

"Breaking them does, too." Damien grinned.

Craig rolled his eyes. "Christ, you are _never_ setting foot in my shelter."

"Wouldn't want to. All that barking and hissing when I enter is annoying as fuck."

And this is how their conversations usually went. So maybe they were better friends than Damien liked to admit. He got to be an outright, deliberate bastard when he was around Craig, a side of himself he refrained from showing Pip. It was asshole-guy-bonding-time and both men secretly liked it.

Their regular waitress came over and asked, "What'll it be, boys? The usual?"

"Yep." Craig replied, while Damien just looked at her and nodded. The woman moved away, taking their menus with her and clearing his view to the other side of the restaurant. He probably wouldn't have noticed the blonde boy's presence, but Tweek chose that moment to turn his head and smile up at the waitress pouring his coffee, giving Damien a good look at his profile.

Shit! Damien looked away quickly. He knew Tweek was coming back to town, in fact they were getting together next weekend, but he didn't know he was already here! Looking toward Craig, he decided it would be better to give his companion a little warning rather than letting Craig notice on his own. And he _would_ notice, no question about it.

"Craig, don't freak out." Damien said tensely, stealing another glance at Tweek.

Craig looked at him confusedly. "What are you talking about, dude?"

"Don't freak out." Damien repeated. "Tweek is sitting behind you."

Craig didn't even bother to turn around and look for himself. His body was already out of his seat and striding to the other side of the restaurant with more speed than necessary.

"Fuck." Damien growled, sliding out of the booth and following.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Tweek was staring out the window of the diner, smiling and taking the occasional sip of his coffee, when he felt a presence sit down across from him. Thinking it was his friend finally joining him, he turned to greet him. His smile faltered and he choked on his coffee, sputtering slightly.

Craig sat across from him, his eyes eerie and intense in their devoted focus. But more than that, they were _exposed_. Those gray orbs were hungry and determined, drinking Tweek in like he was liable to disappear at any moment. Which, considering their history, wasn't completely absurd. Tweek always had a gift for reading Craig and he could see regret, guilt, pain and longing etched on his face. But burning from deep inside his stunning irises, shining from his eyes like laser beams, there was desperate, excruciating love. It was pulsating in waves around Tweek, like the air was saturated with it. It hurt to breath and he started taking in sharp, rapid gulps of air. His eyes widened in panic. Jesus Christ – _pressure_ – he was so not ready for this!

"Calm down, Tweek." Craig said, his tone low and gentle in what his friends called his 'vet voice'. "I'm not here to start anything. Everything's fine. You're okay. Shh, breathe. Breathe."

There was nothing Craig wanted more than to wrap Tweek in his arms and hold him like he used to, but that wasn't his place anymore. He'd lost that right and though he was determined to get it back, he was going to earn it this time…be _worthy_ of it this time. For now, he was just content to stare at Tweek. He'd changed in his time away. He'd gone through a growth spurt and was now around 5'10", only a few inches shorter than himself. He was still lanky and thin, but healthier and not nearly as emaciated-looking as he had been. As his breathing started to slow, Tweek pulled himself together and a quiet strength infused itself into his aura. A confidence that hadn't been there before transformed him from the boy Craig remembered to a breathtakingly gorgeous version of himself. He seemed to gather himself for a moment and then his eyes snapped up sharply to meet Craig's. For once, Tweek was the unreadable one. His guard was firmly in place.

"Hello, Craig." he greeted evenly. Damien caught up to them and slid into the seat next to Craig. Tweek gave a genuine smile at the Anti-Christ. "Morning, Damien."

"Hey, Tweek." Damien nodded back. "When did you get back in town?"

"Last night. Are we still on for dinner on Saturday?" Tweek asked, pointedly ignoring Craig's heated gaze.

Damien smirked. "Pip's talked about nothing else for days. Of course, we're still on."

"Good." Tweek smiled back. The conversation hit a lull and Craig seized the opportunity to get Tweek's focus back on him.

"How have you been?" Craig asked quietly, eyes never wavering from Tweek's face.

"Good." Tweek replied, almost defiantly. "You?"

"Good." echoed Craig. "So, are you just back for the summer or…?" _Please say you're back for good, please say you're back for good._

"I'm going to school down here in the fall, finishing up my associate degree at Park County." Tweek stated.

"Cool. Me too." Craig smiled. "What are you studying?"

"General studies for now. But I really like anthropology, so I think I'll do my bachelor's in –" Tweek cut off as an arm wrapped slowly around his neck from behind and he smiled to himself. The hand slid languidly across his chest, then came back up until the thumb was brushing across his jaw in light caresses. Kenny.

Craig's eyes darkened as that blonde slut, playboy _fucker_, Kenny, held Tweek in a one armed hug from behind. It wasn't a simple one-handed guy hug, but far more intimate than that. His hand cupped the side of Tweek's neck gently, his thumb running along the jaw line. He nuzzled his face into the juncture of Tweek's shoulder and neck. Both blondes were smiling softly to themselves at the contact.

Damien held in a grin at Kenny's display and Craig's resulting anger. Oh, this was about to get interesting. Damien was good friends with Kenny, had been for years thanks to the blonde's frequent trips to Hell. Kenny was an affectionate guy, probably due to his shitty childhood, and was very physically expressive with all of his friends. He'd seen Kenny hold hands with Stan and lightly peck Kyle on the lips. He kissed Butters on the cheek and cuddled up to Damien whenever they sat close. He walked with an arm thrown casually around Cartman's waist or shoulder. He sat between Gregory's legs as the two studied together, hugging the British boy's thigh. He and Christophe had no reservations about giving each other back-rubs when they were stressed. Even though Stan and Kyle were still dancing around each other, neither having worked up the courage to make a move, they never got jealous or threatened when Kenny's hugs lingered too long to be considered strictly friendly. And while Gregory and Christophe had been together for years, neither batted an eye when they found their lover asleep on the couch with Kenny dozing on their chest. Even that homophobic fat fuck, Cartman, saw the suggestive affections as completely normal. All involved knew nothing was meant by it; it was just Kenny being Kenny.

But Craig didn't know that, having spent his entire childhood avoiding all of them. Damien worked harder to suppress his grin.

"Hey, Tweekers. Sorry I'm late." Kenny murmured into Tweek's shoulder. Craig growled at the nickname from deep in his throat. Damien hid his mouth behind his coffee cup.

"S'okay." Tweek responded, breaking the contact and patting the seat next to him. Kenny slid into the booth gracefully and threw an arm over Tweek's shoulder, looking across at the two noirettes.

"Oh. Hey, Damien." Kenny greeted with a grin, which morphed into a tight smile when directed at Craig. "Craig."

"Fuck-stain." Craig greeted back, flipping him off.

"Craig!" Tweek yelped, his tone scolding. Craig ignored the reprimand.

"So, you two are together?" Craig demanded. Tweek opened his mouth to reply, but Kenny beat him to it.

"Tweek is my _special_ friend." Kenny drawled with a lazy smile, letting Craig take that how he would.

Craig seethed at the response and Damien had a spontaneous, suspicious coughing fit. "You okay there, Damien?" Kenny grinned knowingly.

Damien waved off the question, still trying to compose himself. "Fine. Don't mind me."

"Jesus, you guys." Tweek muttered, rolling his eyes. "What are you, eight? Craig, we're not –"

"We're not staying." Kenny interrupted again. "We have to go apartment hunting. Let's go, babe. Hopefully we can find something with a Jacuzzi tub."

Tweek was pulled out of his seat and toward the door, sputtering the whole way. Craig was left fuming in the booth, a highly amused Damien by his side.

"I'm gonna kill that bitch." Craig snarled, unconsciously gripping the letter through his jacket. "Oh, it is _so_ fucking on."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Please Read and Review!**


	3. Increasing Chance

**Disclaimer: belongs to Matt and Trey.**

**Thanks to HappyNoodleGirl666, AzyumiChan, Scarlet Wolf, DemiGodLover, Kermit's Cousin, WizerdBeards, and OuranLover68 for the reviews so far! They really make writing a labor of love and I do appreciate the great feedback!**

**Enjoy!**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Craig was mad as hell. He was absolutely fucking livid. No, he was mother-fucking _bloodthirsty_.

And beneath it all, he was so incredibly jealous. The way Kenny touched Tweek. The way he made Tweek smile. How the trust that had once been his alone shined in Tweek's eyes when he looked at Kenny. How they were moving in together. What they would do in that fucking Jacuzzi tub. God, he swore he tasted bile in the back of his throat at the mere thought of Kenny violating Tweek against the side of that tub. Craig _did_ taste bile when he thought of Tweek wanting him to.

When he wasn't consumed with anger or envy, he was nearly pissing himself in fear. Even though they'd been apart for a year, he couldn't imagine Tweek not being his. As depressed and miserable as he'd been, he never let himself think that it was really the end. How could it be, when he loved Tweek so much that it physically hurt to be without him? But what if Tweek had moved on? What if he lost the love of his fucking life to that poor piece of shit, Kenny? What if he was too late?

The small puppy in his hand whined feebly when his grip unconsciously tightened at the thought.

"Are you alright?" his boss, Andrea, asked gently. Craig looked up, shooting her a glare before it died in his eyes. He could never bring himself to be an asshole to her, mostly because she was so fucking _caring_ all the time. She was in her mid-forties, all fading beauty, soft curves and kind, smiling eyes. She loved animals and was good at her job, though she didn't have the natural rapport with them that he did. Still, she'd taken him under her wing and he felt like he owed her. He was paying her back by not being a dick…and she better appreciate it, too, 'cause it was a lot of fucking work.

"Fine."

She peered at him over the rim of her cats-eye glasses; her gaze, the penetrating yet condescending stare favored by older women everywhere. "You're grip on Slinky says otherwise. Good gracious, put him down before you break the poor thing! Now, what's the matter?"

Craig laid the animal gently on the exam table, focusing on his work while answering. He picked up some medicated eye drops and lightly pried the whimpering puppy's left eye open. "My ex is in town. It's got me thinking, is all."

"Just a bit of nostalgia? Or is it more than that…some regret, perhaps?" Andrea probed.

Craig shrugged noncommittally and didn't answer, holding Slinky's right eye open and applying more drops. Andrea smiled slightly, by now used to Craig's aloof manner. Hopping down from her perch on the desk, she put her hand between Craig's shoulder blades and brushed a maternal kiss across his cheek. "Well, whichever it is, you know I'm here if you need me. Have a good night, Craig. Don't stay too late."

"Night, Andrea." Craig called after her. The front lights shut off, he heard the closed sign being flipped around and the bell above the door jingled as she left. He finished with Slinky's medical needs and left the quivering puppy on the table. He opened the fridge and got an eyedropper and some milk. Slinky was the runt of the litter; he was small and weak, his health was poor and he was undernourished. The owners had given him up to the shelter, thinking he probably wouldn't make it anyway. But he was getting stronger every day, thanks to Craig. Picking up the helpless animal, Craig held Slinky against his chest and fed him with the eyedropper. Slinky whined pitifully every time Craig withdrew the eyedropper to refill it.

Craig rolled his eyes at the dog, flipping him off before bringing the glass tip to Slinky's mouth again. "You are such a whiney little pussy." he said softly, his lips tilting up.

After he was done feeding Slinky, he gave Tortellini a bath, poured some flies into Dune's terrarium, cleaned the fish tanks and trimmed Gabriel's nails. He always stayed here much later than he led Andrea to believe. It's not like he had much else to do. Most of his friends were away at college, he hated spending time with his family, and he made it a personal policy to never do homework more than 24 hours before the due date. Besides, animals always cleared his head. They were so easy to be around: no talking, no guess work, and no expectations.

He was roughhousing with Chief, a full grown husky, when he heard a desperate pounding at the door to the shelter. He glanced at his watch, seeing it was past eight o'clock and the shelter closed at five. He had every intention of ignoring it, but a terrified voice caught his attention.

"O-oh, Jesus _f-fucking_ C-christ! Please be th-there! O-open the door! She's hurt and b-bleeding– _Ngh! Th-there's blood on me_! I n-never should h-have unpacked those g-glasses with h-her around! I-I'm such a freaking s-spaz! Jesus, I've o-only had her for a w-week and now s-she's gonna die! _GAH! _Oh G-god, I'm a m-murderer! Their g-gonna come after me and lock me a-away! I did a p-paper on gay prison c-culture – delicate b-bitches like me are _currency_ in the j-joint! Sweet Jesus, _no way_, I can't h-handle that! _P-pressure_! Please, for the l-love of God and my t-tight ass, _OPEN THE GOD-DAMNED DOOR!_"

He'd know that hysterical ranting anywhere, even though he hadn't heard Tweek lose it like this in years. He straightened his lab coat – yes, he wore a nerdy lab coat and he'd fuck up anyone that dared to comment – and quickly ushered Chief back into his cage. Moving quickly through the lobby, he opened the door and saw Tweek, who was a complete wreck. There was a smudge of blood on his cheek and smears of it in his hair where he'd no doubt been pulling at it. He was shaking violently, clutching a wriggling bundle wrapped in a terry cloth towel. When Tweek focused his darting eyes long enough to see it was Craig that answered the door, he became positively horrified.

"_GAH!_" Tweek shrieked, scrambling back and throwing his arms up in terror, trying to protect himself. From what, Craig had no idea. But in his panic, he'd tossed the cloth bundle away from himself and toward Craig, which Craig caught easily. Shifting the towel aside, he saw a tabby kitten, no more than three or four months old. Checking her tiny body over, he saw a couple shards of glass embedded in her, one on her back left leg and the other between her shoulder blades. Prodding the wounds lightly as Tweek continued to freak out and ramble, Craig saw that neither shard was in deep enough to cause serious damage.

"Tweek." Craig called. The blond continued to babble deliriously. Craig was normally amused by his lines of logic when he was deep in paranoia – somehow, he'd already jumped from prison to voodoo animal sacrifices to vampires – but this wasn't getting them anywhere. "Tweek!"

Now he was shaking in terror, mumbling something about Egyptians and sacred cats. Craig just huffed and took Tweek's hand, dragging him to the back room. Laying the kitten down on the exam table, Craig decided that Tweek was the more critical patient at the moment, since he was now bawling and rambling on about karma.

"I-I d-d-don't want to b-be eaten a-alive b-by a mount –_hic_– mountain l-lion!" Tweek cried, hiccupping and stuttering through his tears. Craig shook his head, a small smile on his face. Seeing Tweek like this brought out every protective instinct in Craig's body. He couldn't resist reaching for Tweek and pulling the vulnerable boy into his arms. _Where he belongs_ – the thought echoed in Craig's head as he buried his face into Tweek's hair and inhaled deeply. Tweek was pale and shaking and sobbing; it probably hadn't even registered with him that Craig was holding him. As soon as he became aware, the undeniable _rightness_ of the moment would be lost in whatever reaction Tweek had, so Craig indulged while he could. He held Tweek firmly against his chest and backed him up until his back hit the wall. He knew Tweek needed to feel surrounded when he was like this and did his best to encompass the blonde's body with his own.

"Shh." he crooned softly. Craig eyes shuttered closed and he almost groaned when Tweek buried his face against his neck, soft lips brushing accidentally against his skin. "You're okay, Tweek. Calm down, baby, everything's fine. Nothing bad is gonna happen. Your kitten's going to be fine, it's just a couple of shallow cuts. Everything's alright. You're fine."

Craig continued to whisper soothing, nonsensical reassurances in Tweek's ear until his tears subsided. Lifting his head and glancing at the drained boy on his shoulder, he saw Tweek's eyes closed peacefully as he snuggled further into Craig's chest. Craig held him tighter and squeezed his eyes shut as well, his eyebrows furrowing as moisture gathered beneath his lids. It was almost painful having Tweek in his arms again; it brought all the misery of their time apart down on him and at the same time, it felt so good having him back that it _hurt_. God, he missed this and he didn't fucking care if that made him a pussy. He missed when it was just him and Tweek against the world; when all either of them needed was the other; when he was the solution to, not the cause of, all of Tweek's problems; when Tweek looked at him like he could do no wrong. He missed Tweek loving him.

"Tweek." Craig's nasally voice cut through the silence between them, his tone soft.

Tweek raised himself from Craig's shoulder and glanced up at the taller boy. Once he realized their position and the unclouded memory of his breakdown came back to him, he jumped out of Craig's arms and tugged at the hem of his shirt. He blushed deeply, but met Craig's gaze head on. There was love pouring out of his quicksilver eyes, so much that Tweek wanted to jump in and drown in it. It would be so easy…but Tweek drew himself up and remembered how hard it would be – how hard it_ had been_ – when it all fell apart.

"Sorry." Tweek whispered, looking away from Craig's intense gaze.

Craig's eyes pleaded with Tweek for a second before they dimmed to dull gray, realizing the moment was over. He moved to the exam table, the lazy pace belying his tension. Grabbing a pair of tweezers to remove the glass shards from the small cat, he bent down to focus on his work. "Don't worry about it, Tweek. Your kitten's fine, by the way. The cut on her back might need a stitch or two, but nothing too serious."

Tweek nearly collapsed in relief. "Oh, thank God!"

"Never thought you were an animal person." Craig commented, eyes still on the kitten. He removed the shard from her leg and quickly put a gauze pad on the wound to staunch the blood flow.

"My aunt gave her to me when I left Denver." Tweek said awkwardly.

Craig smiled slightly. "How is Charlotte?" he asked, disinfecting the cut and wrapping the leg in a bandage.

Tweek was surprised by the question – pleasantly so. "S-she's good. She's dating a guy from her Reiki class."

Craig snorted at that, but made no other comment.

"So…you work here?" Tweek asked, getting more uncomfortable by the moment. He was alone with his ex, in an empty building at night, _alone_. He was quickly becoming terrified…not of what Craig would do, but what _he_ would do. The past year had been ridiculously good to Craig. He'd filled out, firm muscle turning his once lanky form into a lean hard-body. His hair was longer now, strands of it falling across his forehead and over his eyes sharply. And god-damned, there was something about him in a lab coat that turned Tweek's knees to mush. His silver eyes were as magnetic and orgasm-inducing as ever. They constantly drew him in, trapping him and leaving him uncertain of whether being trapped by Craig was a bad thing or not. But it was! He knew that! He knew what being with Craig did to him last time and he didn't want to go down that road again. At least, his common sense didn't. His heart, his soul, his body, they wanted him with all the desperation of a junkie wanting his next score...or him, wanting his next cup of coffee. Tweek's impressive gift of repression couldn't stand up against the overwhelming effect of Craig's presence. All the love he'd fought against and buried inside of himself was burning for release. He drank in Craig's presence: his smell, his eyes, his casual posture, his lips…which were moving…and talking. Oh. Right. Tweek had asked something, hadn't he?

"…then I got hired on as Andrea's assistant a couple of months ago. Money's decent and it's good experience for when I become a vet." Craig said, still not looking up from the kitten. He quickly removed the second shard of glass and pressed gauze to the cut. With his free hand, he took up a needle and thread.

"J-jesus!" Tweek yelped, coming up to the table. "Do you know what you're doing with that thing?"

"Relax, Tweekers." Craig smiled, the nickname coming out unconsciously. "I've practiced on oranges. And ham."

"As super reassuring as that is, you've never done it on a real animal before!" Tweek argued worriedly.

"Tweek." Craig deadpanned, his tone serious. "I know what I'm doing. Trust me, okay?"

As Tweek paused uncertainly, Craig cursed himself for the thousandth time for hurting Tweek so badly. Finally, when Tweek's shaky nod was directed at him, he took a deep breath and lowered the needle to the damaged flesh. So maybe he didn't _completely_ know what he was doing, but he'd seen Andrea do it enough times to know the general idea. He ran the needle steadily through, creating two stitches and then cutting off the thread. He wrapped a strip of gauze around the kitten's body at the wound and tied it off tightly.

"Done." Craig said proudly.

"Thank you, Craig!" Tweek chirped happily, picking the cat up gently and cooing at it. "All better now? Yes, that's a good kitty. You're okay, Hussy."

Craig choked on a sudden laugh. "You named your cat Hussy?"

Tweek blushed. "I couldn't decide on a name – that's just _way_ too much pressure. Kenny named her Hussy. She's an attention whore." he added by way of explanation.

Craig stiffened at the mention of that asshole. "_Kenny_." he spat venomously. "He's the fucking whore. Why are you even with him? That guy's a dickhead."

Tweek rolled his eyes, setting Hussy down. "I'm not with him. Kenny was just messing with you. We're friends, that's all."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how he sees it." Craig shot back. Tweek really could be oblivious to his appeal and Kenny was just the type of slick bastard to take complete advantage of that.

"Craig, have you _met_ Kenny? The guy's practically made a religion out of worshipping tits and pussy! Other than a failed experiment with Butters junior year, he's straight as an arrow. He's just really hands-on with the affection and not just with me, either. He treats all his friends that way."

"Really?" Craig asked flatly, trying hard to keep the hope out of his voice.

"Honestly, there's nothing going on between us."

Craig had Tweek trapped between his body and the exam table before the last syllable was done vibrating in the air. His lips descended on the blonde's with a straining groan, moving desperately against Tweek's soft, pliant mouth. Knowing he hadn't lost Tweek made Craig want to reclaim him _now_ and not waste another moment being apart. His signature taste of bitter coffee and sweet honey teased Craig's tongue; in fact, all of his senses were devoted to burning the experience into his memory. Tweek's quivering body was pressed tightly against him, one hand slowly coming up to grip his shirt over his heart and the other twining around to grasp the nape of his neck. Soft cries and moans came unbidden from deep in his throat as Craig continued his assault. Tweek's initial shock and hesitance gave way to urgent need, which Craig matched touch for touch, moan for moan and kiss for kiss. They were moving against each other as if they could somehow make up for the past year, if only they could come together fast enough. Craig pulled Tweek up until he was sitting on the cold, metal table and Tweek instinctively wrapped his legs around Craig's waist. Craig's hands moved down to Tweek's ass, pressing against him. Tweek moaned into their kiss, circling his hips slowly and sensually, rubbing his erection against Craig's already hard length.

Tweek couldn't decide if it was so wrong or so right. He just knew that as close as they were, it wasn't close enough. He wanted to crawl inside the other's skin, melt into him, be a part of him and inextricably bound to him. It had been so long and his body had missed Craig's familiar touch. No one could make him feel like Craig could: at once free and captive, cherished and wicked, bashful and uninhibited. He whimpered as Craig's mouth sucked on the skin below his ear, an erogenous zone Craig had found easily their first time together and one he'd devotedly worshipped every time since. Craig's rapid, uneven breathing was hot against his skin and his rough voice moaning in Tweek's ear sent a shudder through his body.

He shouldn't be doing this, but God help him, he didn't think he was strong enough to stop. Desire was ripping through his mind, leaving his better judgment bloody and shredded in its wake. Lust clawed at him in the pit of his stomach, sending liquid heat down through his legs and making them shake with need. That fire then spiraled up into his chest, making his heart hammer wildly; he felt it speed up even faster in anticipation of more to come. This was _Craig_, gripping the inside of his thigh. Craig, running his nails lightly over his chest and abdomen. Craig, making his blood boil with sensation.

Craig, his soul mate. Craig, his home. Craig, who he loved.

Tweek's movements slowed as that train of thought took a dark turn.

Craig, who had hurt him. Craig, who made him feel worthless. Craig, who was selfish and cruel and cold. Craig, whose love was poison and whose disregard was unbearable.

"Stop!" Tweek pushed Craig away sharply. While the noirette was still coming out of his confused haze, Tweek moved on weak legs to the other side of the table. Taking in heaving gulps of air and fighting the screaming protests of his hyper-sensitive body, he steadied himself by bracing his shaky arms against the table. Getting his body under control, he came back to reality and thanked God he stopped when he did.

"What?" Craig panted, his body tense as if ready to pounce again at any moment.

"What do you mean, 'what'?" Tweek yelled hoarsely. "What the fuck was that? We're not together, remember? We haven't been for a long time!"

"Don't act like you weren't enjoying it, Tweek!" Craig shouted back, his unfulfilled lust easily channeling itself into anger. "Or was I just imagining you moaning and grinding yourself against me and kissing m-"

"Shut up!" Tweek cried, his hands covering his ears to block out the crude, if completely true, accusations. "Just shut up! I-I lost my head, damn it! Fuck, w-what was I thinking? How c-could I be so stupid? I sh-should have left, the second I saw h-him."

Tweek continued to mutter to himself, eyes squeezed shut and hands still over his ears. Craig felt his anger drain away at the sight – he always was a sucker for Tweek's breakdowns. Besides, he didn't want to fight with Tweek anyway. It was kind of counter-productive to getting him back. Craig moved slowly around the table, not wanting to frighten Tweek. When he finally came in front of the blonde, it took every ounce of will power not to pick up where they left off. Instead, he gently took Tweek's hands and removed them from his ears. When Tweek looked up at him, lost and scared, Craig cupped his face with one hand and leaned their foreheads together.

"I'm sorry." Craig whispered. "I'm so sorry for all of it. I'm sorry for hurting you. You have no idea how sorry."

"Then why did you do it?" Tweek choked out, a tear slipping down his face.

"Fuck, I don't even know. I was going through some stuff and I just took it out on you." Craig confessed.

"You cheated on me. You lied to me. You tore me down every chance you got. You ignored me and ridiculed me and it was all so easy for you." Tweek rasped. "What's to stop you from doing it again?"

"Tweek, I've had to live the past year without you. Believe me, that's all the motivation I need to _never_ hurt you again."

Tweek froze, his body stiffening.

He'd been so close to giving in, to surrendering himself to what just a moment ago had felt inevitable…_right_ even. And then Craig had to go and say something like that, a glaring reminder of their relationship's fatal flaw. Craig's words ricocheted in his head, each new repetition of them bringing out a different emotion. Heartbreak. Disappointment. Anger. Disbelief. Cynicism. Even dark, sardonic humor. All the strength he'd discovered in himself – all the strength he'd forgotten up to now – returned to him.

Turning out of Craig's embrace and massaging his forehead, Tweek let out a humorless laugh. "Jesus Christ, Craig. It's been over a year and you still don't fucking get it."

"Get what?" Craig asked, confused.

"Why I left!" Tweek shouted. Deflating when the spike of anger was overpowered by fatigue, he gathered Hussy into his arms and walked to the door. "And if you haven't gotten it by now, I don't think you ever will. Goodbye, Craig."

Craig stood still, his eyes glued to the door Tweek had left through. He had no idea how long he stood there, but the numb shock eventually gave way to anger and he threw a tray of medical instruments against the wall.

"FUCK!" he screamed.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Craig found himself outside a familiar door, knocking impatiently. When it finally opened, he pushed past Damien and into the house. "I need to talk to Pip."

Damien stayed at the door, saying to the empty space on the porch, "Please, won't you come in? So nice to see you, too, Craig."

"Blow it out your ass, Damien." Craig growled, flipping him off. "Where's Pip?"

"PIP!" Damien screamed up the stairs. "Craig's throwing a bitch-fit and he needs to talk to you!"

"Right-o!" came the distant reply.

"Fuck you." Craig snarled to the grinning Anti-Christ.

"Dude, what crawled up your ass?"

"Tweek came by the shelter."

"Oh, dear." Pip said softly from the bottom stair. Both men turned to him. "Well, sit down, won't you? I'll put on some tea."

Craig and Damien sat silently on the sofa, one a wired mess of anger and the other, bored and annoyed at the interruption of his evening. Pip returned to the living room a few minutes later, setting a tea tray down on the coffee table and preparing cups for the three of them. Once he took a contented sip of the hot tea, Pip sat down in the lounge chair and pulled his legs up underneath him.

"Now, why don't you start from the beginning, hmm?" Pip smiled encouragingly, taking another sip.

Craig launched into the story, putting his elbows on his knees and staring at his hands. He didn't spare any detail or slant the story at all. He needed Pip's advice on this one and twisting the story to make himself seem like less of a prick wouldn't help him fix things with Tweek. He'd been turning the evening's events over and over in his mind, but it was like he was missing some critical element of it. Tweek had accused him of not 'getting it' and he was starting to think the blonde was right.

"…then Tweek said, 'if you haven't gotten it by now, I don't think you ever will.' I mean, what the fuck, right?" Craig asked, finally looking up from the floor. Part of him was hoping his two companions would be as confused as he was. It would be validation that Tweek was just being a dramatic fag and that Craig hadn't really done anything wrong. But as he glanced between the two, it was clear they got Tweek's point, even if he didn't.

He looked to Damien first, who was sitting next to him on the couch. He had an arm thrown over the back of the sofa and his head was tilted to the side. But the casual position was undercut by his reddening face, shaking torso and puffed out cheeks. The bastard was trying desperately to hold in a laugh, but Craig didn't think anything of it. Damien was usually amused at other people's pain…that didn't mean Craig was in the wrong here.

But then he looked at Pip and that theory was shot to hell. Pip had more emotional intelligence than him and Damien combined and the expression he wore was the one Craig hated the most: the one that said he'd really screwed up. Pip was shaking his head sadly.

"Oh, Craig." Pip sighed in disappointment. "That really was quite obtuse of you."

At that, Damien couldn't hold in his gut-wrenching laughter anymore. He burst out in hysterics, doubling over on the couch and holding his stomach.

"Damien!" Pip scolded.

"Oh, come on, Pip!" Damien rasped through his laughter. "You've got to admit, this is really fucking funny!"

"No, I don't think –"

"I mean, there's no way he can be this stupid by design! There had to have been some kind of head trauma involved!" Damien collapsed over the arm of the couch, completely consumed by the hilarity of the situation.

"Fuck you, ass-rammer!" Craig screamed, giving Damien the double-bird.

"Damien." Pip warned sharply. "Not helping."

"I'm sorry." Damien panted between chuckles. "It's just too –" And he was off again, howling in amusement.

"That's it!" Pip exclaimed, dragging Damien out of his seat and pushing him up the stairs. "Shoo! And don't come down until I say so!"

"Aww, Pip!" Damien complained. But Pip just stomped his foot adorably and pointed up the stairs. Damien grumbled, but went anyway. His plans for the evening, before Craig fucking ruined it, had consisted of bending Pip over the kitchen table and fucking him senseless. Now he'd be lucky to avoid sleeping on the couch. God-damned _Craig_.

After Damien was banished upstairs, Pip returned to the living room and sat down next to Craig on the couch.

"What the hell, Pip?" Craig asked, frustrated and confused. "What did I say to him that was so fucking wrong?"

"Craig, why don't you repeat it for me one more time." Pip suggested, hoping that the more Craig said it, the stupider it would sound to him.

Craig huffed and rolled his eyes. "All I said was that I've lived the past year without him and that's all the reason I'd need to never hurt him. How is that a bad thing? I said I wouldn't hurt him again. Isn't that what he wants?"

"Honestly, Craig." Pip sighed again. This would be harder than he thought. "I can _tell_ you why Tweek was so upset, but it wouldn't help you _understand_ why Tweek was so upset. This is one of those lessons in life that only holds meaning if one discovers it for one's self."

"God damn it, why is everyone talking in riddles tonight?" Craig burst out angrily.

Pip rubbed Craig's back soothingly. "Alright, let's try something else. I'm going to give you a scenario and I want you to tell me what it means to you. Okay?"

"Whatever."

"I want you to imagine that the man you love has cheated on you and you've caught him. He begs your forgiveness. He tells you he won't ever cheat again and that he regrets it. But you wonder, does he regret actually doing it? Or does he only regret being caught?"

"What's the difference?" Craig shrugged.

Pip massaged his temples. Perhaps Damien was right…Craig couldn't possibly be this thick, could he? "You tell me, Craig. And don't just say you don't know. Really think about it."

There was silence in the room for a long time as Craig thought about it. Pip had to hold back a giggle at the look of concentration on the noirette's face, as though he was trying to grasp the complex principles of quantum mechanics instead of the basic emotions of his own relationship. The absolute quiet persisted and showed no signs of breaking.

Pip spoke up, helping him along. "It has to do with where the cheater's concerns lie: with his lover or with himself."

Craig nodded absentmindedly, absorbing that piece of information into his thought process. After several more minutes, he finally spoke. Each word was said slowly and deliberately, like he was still trying to understand his own logic.

"I think…" Craig started uncertainly. "I think if he regrets actually doing it, that says he's upset because he hurt me and betrayed my trust. If he only regrets getting caught, then he's just concerned about the consequences for himself."

"Excellent!" Pip praised. There was hope for the boy yet! "Now apply that to what you told Tweek."

Craig returned to his pensive state, his words to Tweek echoing in his head for the hundredth time. _Tweek, I've had to live the past year without you. Believe me, that's all the motivation I need to _never_ hurt you again._

Craig's eyes widened in realization and then fell shut as he groaned at his own stupidity. Knowing what he did now, he could only imagine how that had sounded to Tweek. It probably seemed like Craig didn't care at all about the pain _Tweek_ had to endure. Like he wasn't concerned with how insignificant he'd made _Tweek_ feel when he cheated. Like he hadn't even thought about how much damage _Tweek_ had suffered because of him.

It sounded like the only thing he cared about was himself. As if _his _misery over losing Tweek for a year was the only thing that mattered, when it didn't even compare to what he'd put Tweek through. It told Tweek that even if he kept his word and didn't hurt him, Craig would only be doing it for his own benefit and to keep Tweek from leaving again – not because he finally realized that Tweek deserved nothing less than to be treasured.

That was it, wasn't it? That's what he didn't get before: that their whole fucking relationship had been about _him_. He'd been so consumed with his own problems and his own pain, that he didn't even _notice_ what he was doing to Tweek until the blonde had already had enough. Tweek had loved him with his whole heart, making in clear in everything he did. Craig had only thought of how good Tweek's love made him feel and never once thought of making Tweek happy by reciprocating. When he'd cheated, he thought of his own pleasure. If he gave any thought to Tweek's reaction at all, it wasn't self-loathing at the pain he was putting his angel through; it was disgust at how pathetic Tweek was for not saying anything. He tore Tweek down in some twisted attempt to raise himself up. He never thanked Tweek for the little things he did for him, but whenever he showed Tweek the slightest bit of consideration – something that should have been a god-damn _given_ – he got mad when the blonde didn't bow down in appreciation! The more Craig's thoughts progressed like this, the more sickened he became. He couldn't really be this selfish a bastard, could he?

"Jesus Christ." Craig muttered in horror, turning to Pip. "I am _such_ an asshole. There's no fucking way I deserve him."

Oddly enough, Pip looked proud of him and the British boy smiled gently. "You're a recovering asshole, darling; there's a difference. As for the other, that's for Tweek to decide."

Craig groaned. "Shit, he's never gonna want to talk to me again after tonight! How the fuck am I supposed to win him back now?"

"Well, it was always about what Tweek could do for _you_, wasn't it?" Pip concluded. "Make it about him this time around. Do things he would like. Woo him. Court him."

Craig choked, looking positively aghast at the idea. "_Woo_ him? How do I even do that?"

Pip's patience for Craig's emotional idiocy finally ran out. He had no intention of playing Cyrano de Bergerac to Craig's Christian de Neuvillette. "Dearest, I'm brilliant; not clairvoyant. You're the one who knows Tweek best and you're the one who's in love with him. I'm sure you'll figure something out."

Pip led a sputtering Craig to the door and ushered him out. "Good night, Craig."

"But –" Craig started, only to find the door closed gently in his face.

Pip made his way up the stairs slowly, completely exhausted. Coming into the bedroom, he saw a pouting Damien lying on the bed and glaring at the ceiling. Pip smiled at the sight, sighing dreamily. Damien's chest was exposed, a perfect fan of dark hair spread along the pecs. A light trail made its way down between the defined abdominal muscles and disappeared beneath the waistband of his tight jeans.

Damien spotted Pip, sarcastically asking, "Can I come out of my room now, mother?"

Pip ignored the mocking tone and crossed the room quietly. When he reached the side of the bed, he straddled Damien in one smooth motion, resting his hands lightly on his lover's chest and running them along the pattern of coarse hair. Damien, while surprised, remained silent.

"Thank you." Pip said quietly. "Thank you for being with me." He planted a kiss on Damien's pulse point. "For appreciating me." A kiss to his collarbone. "For fighting for me." A kiss to his right nipple. "For considering me." A kiss to his left nipple. "For loving me." A kiss to his belly button. "For telling me." And back to his mouth for a deep, languid kiss.

"Pip." Damien whispered softly, shifting under the blonde. Pip smiled down on him, knowing he was uncomfortable around sentimental words. Ever benevolent, Pip decided to spare him and speak _his_ language for once.

"Now fuck me until I forget everything but your name." Pip demanded.

Damien's eyes widened in shock before a hungry, wolfish grin took over his features and he flipped them over, pinning the blonde beneath him. "You'll be screaming it by the time I'm done with you." he growled heatedly, descending on Pip's sweet mouth.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Please Read and Review! **


	4. Fighting Chance

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own naughty imagination…**

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, it really means a lot to me! Please let me know what you think of this new chapter!**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

A specific set of memories flashed through Craig's mind as he stood outside of Tweak Bros. Coffee House…

When he was twelve years old, he'd seen his first porno. Four guys in a basement, the volume of the television turned way down low, watching a man and woman going at it like rabid howler monkeys. Not hours after the oddly unsatisfying experience, he'd logged onto his computer and quickly discovered the wonderful world of gay porn. He'd jerked off so furiously that night, he limped for two days.

When he was fifteen and getting drunk with his friends, he'd thrown up after Token had described in torturous detail the tastes, smells and sounds of eating out Bebe Stevens' pussy. The guys just thought he'd had too much to beer and he didn't bother to correct them.

When he was sixteen, he and Tweek had lost their virginities together. He'd sucked Tweek's cock harder than a collapsed straw and plundered that ass like he was looking for buried treasure.

When he was eighteen, he lost a bet to Clyde. Long story short, the whole incident ended with him saying into Clyde's cell phone in a deadpan, nasally voice, "Honey Badger don't care. Honey Badger don't give a shit. Honey Badger will slap the shit out of you."

It had been Clyde's ringtone throughout senior year.

Analyzing the memories one by one, Craig shook his head. Nope…this was still the absolute _gayest_ thing he'd ever done.

He stood in the shadows behind the coffee shop, tugging at his clothes uncomfortably. He knew he looked good; the numerous backwards glances to his ass as he'd walked here and no less than three moaned whispers of 'daaaamn' as he passed all confirmed it. Foregoing his usual outfit of blue jeans, a hoodie and his signature winter hat, Craig looked like he'd stepped from the pages of GQ. He was dressed head-to-toe in black. He wore fitted slacks slung low on his hips, held in place by a plain black belt. The small belt-buckle was unpretentious, but the flash of silver inevitably drew eyes to the tight abs above and concealed package below. His black dress shirt was tucked in tight and the fabric was taut over his lean musculature. The sleeves were rolled up casually to his elbows and a skinny black tie hung askew at his neck.

He wore the cologne Tweek had given him two Christmases ago, a heady scent that never failed to have the blonde boy all over him. He didn't shave, knowing Tweek loved his five o'clock shadow. Craig would have styled his hair, but there were certain boundaries of faggotry he refused to cross and any manner of 'product' was one of them. As it was, his hair only looked slightly different from his everyday, careless bed-head. The bangs still slanted across his forehead and fell into his eyes rakishly, though somehow the overall affect was sleeker and sharper-looking than normal.

And in his hand, he held a small potted plant. It was pathetic how much time he'd spent on that detail alone. He'd thought of bringing Tweek a rose, but that was so generic and overdone. Craig wanted something personal, something that told the blonde this was going to be about him. He thought about buying a book on anthropology, but how would that go? _Tweek, I love you so much I'd chew my fucking arm off if you asked. And to show you, I got you this, uh, book_. _Yeah…you can go ahead and swoon now._ He might be desperate, but he wasn't going to be lame, too. He'd considered making a mix CD of all the songs Tweek loved, but he could only think of four songs and that just made him depressed again. In the end, he had a stroke of genius and got the perfect present. It was simple yet symbolic and said all the things he wanted to tell Tweek.

It was a coffee bean plant.

It was still just a seedling, its pot only the size of a small glass. It had a grand total of three leaves and none of the red berries yet. But he knew Tweek would love it and it was better than some faggy rose any day. This would stay with Tweek. He would take care of it, watch it grow and walk past it every day; Craig hoped Tweek would be thinking of him whenever he saw it.

Craig glanced at his watch, seeing it was nearly time for the shop to close and for him to make his move. Though he would never admit it, he'd been nervous at first. When Pip had said to 'woo him', Craig had just about shit a brick. A million anxiety-ridden thoughts had run through his head. He's Craig Tucker, for Christ sakes! He doesn't do feelings, let alone show them through romance. His friends would never let him live this down! It would be awkward and humiliating, even more so if he put himself out there and still didn't get Tweek back in the end.

But all those thoughts got cut off at the knees when he remembered one very important fact…he's Craig Fucking Tucker. Craig Fucking Tucker doesn't give a shit what others think of him and he _definitely_ doesn't let anything stand between him and what he wants.

Nodding to himself, he started walking to the door of the coffee shop.

He was going to woo the _shit_ out of Tweek.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Glancing through the window of coffee shop at five minutes to 9:00, Craig expected the place to be empty. He was severely disappointed – not to mention annoyed – when the first thing he saw was a sea of black. The four lame-ass Goth kids sat up at the barista bar, their styles remarkably unchanged since childhood. From the sidewalk outside, Craig's eyes passed over them with cool regard and mild irritation. The tall one with curly hair was hunched over his coffee cup, staring blankly into the black depths like the emo pussy he was. The only girl of the group, a fat bitch in an unflattering lacy dress, was arranging tarot cards on the counter and ignoring her companions. The youngest one was sketching lazily, occasionally glancing up at a Norman Rockwell painting on the wall and duplicating it, albeit with a macabre, dark twist. But as he looked over at the last one, the one with the red streak in his hair, his eyes narrowed.

Fucking _Dylan_. Craig hated that asshole and had from the moment the Goth moved next door when they were seven. The feeling was completely mutual, too. Their moms had arranged a play-date for them once, right after Dylan's family had moved in. It ended with Craig breaking the fucker's nose after Dylan had called Stripe a 'diseased rodent' and said he'd rather 'drown Stripe in his own blood than hold him'. Things only went downhill from there. Every word spoken between them since had been said with a sneer, a snarl, or a threat. And judging by the way Dylan was looking at Tweek, that wasn't about to change any time soon.

Tweek had his back to Craig and was pouring Dylan another cup of coffee, chatting away amiably. Dylan nodded along, occasionally asking a question or throwing out a comment in what Craig knew to be a quiet, gravelly voice. Tweek would respond enthusiastically, completely missing the calculating interest in Dylan's eyes. Craig seethed as the Goth boy's glance lingered on Tweek's lips before moving down slowly. He eyed the areas on Tweek's stomach and chest where a button on his uniform shirt had been mismatched and pale skin showed through. When Tweek turned around briefly, Dylan's head tilted to the side as he checked out Tweek's ass and then snapped up just as quickly when Tweek faced him again.

It didn't help that Tweek was completely oblivious to any and all forms of romantic attention. Shit, it had taken Craig three months of hardcore flirting to even get a confused glance from him. Tweek saw it all as just friendly attention and treated it as such, which only served to draw the person in more. Since he didn't recognize when he was being hit on, he didn't collapse under the pressure and continued to act like his usual, delectable self. It was all a confusing, vicious cycle of arousal, one Craig himself had cracked under. In the end, he'd been so frustrated from the lack of progress that he'd just grabbed Tweek and kissed him. And from the way Dylan was now holding Tweek's collar and pulling him in closer under the guise of looking at the logo on his uniform shirt, Craig could see Dylan was rapidly approaching the same point.

Craig's breath was coming out in staccato bursts through his flaring nostrils. He was going to do this right: he was going to woo Tweek, he was going to love him unselfishly like he should have from the beginning and he was never going to take Tweek for granted again. But there were some things he couldn't change about himself and being a possessive lover was one of them. Tweek belonged to him and if he had to drive that point home by driving a fist into someone's face, then so be it. The _only_ person who had the power to take Tweek away from him was Tweek himself. Anyone else who tried was fair fucking game.

Opening the door with a forceful jerk, Craig strolled in casually and set the small coffee plant on the nearest table. Looking up, he felt a swell of satisfaction at Tweek's reaction. The blonde, whose collar was still in Dylan's hold, looked him up and down slowly, his expression somewhere between surprised and voracious. When his gaze finally locked with Craig's, it took a second too long for the lust in his eyes to be replaced with nervousness and Craig internally smirked. Tweek looked away blushing and Craig took the opportunity to move his steely stare from Tweek's face to Dylan's. The Goth's eyes narrowed in challenge. Craig glanced briefly between Dylan's glare and the hands still on Tweek's collar. He returned the glare with one of his own and raised an eyebrow dangerously. Dylan smirked as the gauntlet was thrown down between them; he released Tweek's shirt, but not before smoothing down the collar and letting his fingers brush against Tweek's neck as he did so. The stare between them was never broken, but the entire exchange took only seconds. The only one who seemed to notice the unspoken stand-off was the young Goth with the sketch pad, who quickly flipped to a blank page and started a new drawing, glancing rapidly between the two.

"Mmm-mmm." the fat Goth girl purred seductively, her eyes running over Craig's lean body. "Well, hello, creature of the night."

"Not interested, skank." Craig flipped her off without even looking at her, his eyes back on Tweek. "Hey, Tweek."

"H-hey, Craig." Tweek stuttered, a testament to his nerves. "Can I get you something?"

Craig's eyes darkened hungrily, a clear answer to that particular question. Tweek flushed and turned toward the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup with a shaking hand.

"This guy bothering you, Tweek?" Dylan asked, sneering at Craig. "'Cause, you know, I haven't set anything on fire in a while."

"Bring it on, you pathetic piece of shit." Craig smirked arrogantly, in a way that immediately raised Dylan's hackles. "Been a while since I last broke your nose; wouldn't mind doing it again."

"We were seven, butt-pipe." Dylan growled.

"And yet, not much has changed." Craig shot back. "You were a bitch then and you're a bitch now."

"You would know all about being a bitch, wouldn't you, faggot?" Dylan fumed, rising from his seat. "You were playing bitch to every guy in school, if I remember right."

Craig's jaw clenched and he took a menacing step forward. "While you were what, Dylan? Cutting yourself in your basement and beating off to The Craft?"

"While I was fucking your boyfriend, Craig." Dylan said coolly, smirking at the murderous look on the other boy's face. "Oh, you should have heard the way he moaned my name –"

"You son of a bitch!"

"_Gah_! ENOUGH!" Tweek yelled, face red from anger and embarrassment. "Dylan, get the fuck out of here!"

Dylan blanched, realizing what he'd said about Tweek…while he standing was right fucking _there_. "Tweek, I didn't mean –"

"We're closed!" Tweek snapped at him, turning to the rest of the Goth kids. "Out! Now!"

They grumbled, but got up out of their seats.

"Way to go, Dylan." Evan hissed at him. "If we have to go to Denny's from now on because of your stupid blood-feud with that asshole, I'm going to fucking murder you."

"Sorry, Tweek." Georgie said to the barista, getting up from his stool and gathering his sketch pad.

"Yeah, that conformist asshole doesn't speak for the rest of us _individuals_." Henrietta sniffed haughtily.

Tweek gave them a weak smile. "Don't worry about it, guys. I'll see you later, yeah?"

After a chorus of goodbyes and the jingle of the bell as they left, Tweek and Craig were left alone in silence.

"That includes you, Craig. We're closed." Tweek said quietly, gathering up the mugs on the counter.

Craig locked the door behind him and lowered the roll-down curtain over the glass before walking slowly toward the bar. "I'm not leaving, Tweek. We need to talk."

"What is there to say?"

"I want you back."

"That's fucking delightful for you. Now will you leave?"

"Tweek, hear me out –"

"I heard plenty the other night." Tweek snapped impatiently, turning his back on Craig as he put the dishes in the sink. "I heard the same selfish bastard that treated me like shit and _enjoyed_ it. Fuck off, Craig. Leave me alone."

"Look, I know I don't deserve it! I never deserved _you_, but just give me a chance! Tweek, _please_, I'm –" Craig cut off as his voice broke. "God, I'm so fucking in love with you. But I get it now. I get what you were saying that night in the shelter. I never loved you like I should have; I never loved you for you, I loved you for _me_. I was a self-absorbed, callous tool. I hate that I hurt you and not just because it damn near killed me when you left. I hate that _you_ were in pain. I hate that you felt like you had to leave all of your friends and family just to get away from me, which I'm sure only hurt you more. I hate that you didn't talk to me about all of this before you left, but even more, I hate that I probably wouldn't have listened anyway. And I absolutely fucking _loathe_ the fact that I may have lost you for good over this – not because I may as well kill myself now for all my life is worth without you in it, but because I _know_ that no one is capable of making you as happy as I can. And that's all I want, Tweek. I just want you to be happy."

What started as an impassioned rant ended with a tone of pleading resignation. His eyes never left Tweek, whose back was still to him and whose shoulders were now shaking silently. Craig couldn't stand that he was, once again, making Tweek cry. He walked up behind the blonde quietly. After a moment of hesitation, he wrapped his arms around the boy's waist and rested his chin on his shoulder. The mute sobs suddenly gained a voice at the action and Tweek's cries sounded heartbreakingly raw.

"I hate you." Tweek gasped. "Jesus Christ, I hate you so much. Why are you doing this? What do you want from me, Craig?"

"I want to give us another chance, Tweek."

Tweek turned in his embrace and pushed him away, fury written on his face despite the tears still coursing down his cheeks. "Look what you did with the first chance! Just because you can string together a few pretty words doesn't mean I'm just going to fall into your arms! The only one with something to lose here is me and I'm not sure you're worth it!"

"I'm not sure I am either, but I swear I won't hurt you ever again. I can't because it hurts me, too."

Tweek shook his head angrily. "If we were still at the beginning, a promise would be enough. But it's not anymore and I think you know why!"

"So let me prove it to you." Craig responded firmly, gathering Tweek into his arms again. The blonde struggled for a moment, but Craig didn't relent and Tweek eventually sank into the familiar embrace. Craig cupped his jaw and pierced him with a molten gaze. Tweek couldn't look away. "I don't just want a quick fuck with you and I don't want to pick up where we left off either. I want a fresh start for both of us. Let me show you I've changed. Let me make you fall in love again."

"That's never been the problem, Craig." Tweek sighed.

Craig glanced at him in surprise. "You mean you still –"

"The problem is trust." Tweek interrupted quickly; he couldn't stand to let the words be out there. He couldn't let Craig have that power over him. Pretending he wasn't in love with Craig was his only defense, no matter how superficial and self-deluding. The only way he could knowingly enter into a new relationship with him, which was getting more tempting with every word out of the noirette's mouth, was if he could walk away with relatively little damage if things went sour again. He wouldn't be able to do that if _those words_ were let out of the cage Tweek had locked them in.

Craig swallowed hard, somehow understanding why Tweek was holding back. "I know. That's why I want to do this right. I'm not going to let us jump back into anything and then have it fall apart. I couldn't take that. I don't think either of us could. So, let's just start slow…go on dates, get to know each other again."

Tweek was motionless in Craig's arms, aside from the occasional twitch rising in his body. He was overwhelmed by all of this and knew he'd have doubts no matter what he decided. If he said no, he'd always wonder 'what if'. If he said yes and things went the same way as before, he'd be heartbroken all over again. But if he said yes and Craig was serious about this…the feeling that rose up in him was like a taste of Heaven, all love and hope and unimaginable bliss. It could be amazing, even better than in the beginning because they both knew the stakes this time.

"Craig, I'm only going to say this once." Tweek said quietly, eyes never rising from the older boy's chest. "If you ever cheat on me again, if you even start to treat me the way you did before, it won't take me two years to leave. I'll be gone and there won't be any more chances."

"I swear I won't." Craig vowed adamantly, hope swelling in him like a tidal wave.

"I don't want your promises. I couldn't believe them right now anyway. I'm just letting you know."

"So, does this mean…" Craig asked hopefully. "I mean, can we try again?"

Tweek finally looked up at him. He raised himself to the other boy's mouth and kissed him softly, melding their lips together. Craig could practically taste the emotions running through the blonde: fear that his heart would be broken again. Hope that it wouldn't be. Love that had never quite disappeared. Faith in Craig's words. Desire for the undeniable connection they shared. And the smallest amount of trust required to give them this fighting chance.

Craig ended the kiss with a gentle peck to the other boy's lips, resting his forehead against the blonde's and squeezing his eyes shut. "Thank you." he whispered.

"Just don't break my heart, Craig, and I won't have to break yours."

Craig didn't promise him anything, knowing Tweek didn't want to hear it, but just gazed into the brown eyes he loved and let his own do the talking for him.

"So…" Tweek started awkwardly. "What now?"

Craig smirked at him. "Now, you let me walk you home. Tomorrow, you let me take you out on a date. And then you let me woo you properly."

Tweek let out a wet, but genuine laugh. "You've been talking to Pip, haven't you?"

"Maybe." Craig admitted sheepishly, loosening his tie even further.

Tweek sighed in mock frustration, a small smile on his lips, as Craig pulled at his collar uncomfortably. "Not that I don't appreciate the effort, because I think you look completely edible in that outfit, but you hate it don't you?"

Craig chuckled. "So fucking much."

Tweek laughed again, pulling the tie's knot down far enough so he could slip it over Craig's head. Craig ducked down, letting him pull off the offending contraption. He watched in amusement as Tweek absentmindedly slipped it over his own head and barely tightened it around his neck before tugging Craig's shirt out of his pants. Tweek went to work on the buttons next, humming softly as he tried – with little success – to undo them. Craig helped him and the shirt eventually parted, revealing the black tank top underneath. When he was left with an untucked dress shirt hanging casually over his ribbed wife-beater, sleeves still done up to the elbows, and Tweek was in his white button-down uniform shirt with Craig's tie dangling loosely around his neck, the blonde nodded in satisfaction.

"Better." Tweek both stated and asked.

"Better." Craig echoed.

Tweek pecked him on the lips, saying softly against his mouth, "This is only going to work if you're being you and I'm being me."

"Duly noted." Craig chuckled, taking Tweek's hand and leading him to the door. Passing one of the tables, he picked up the potted plant he'd entered with and handed it to Tweek. "I got you something, by the way…"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Okay, so I'm kind of at a crossroads with this story. Part of me wants to end it here and leave it open…sort of a 'choose your own adventure', where your imagination decides whether this works out for them or not. But part of me wants to keep going and explore their new beginning because I could have a lot of fun with that. Please let me know what you guys think, I really value your opinions!**

**~Fate Harbor**


	5. Hell of a Chance

**Disclaimer: not mine, never will be.**

**Okay, so I've decided to continue, because I love these characters too much to stop now. Thanks for all of your encouragement and reviews, they were just the kick in the pants I needed! Please let me know what you think of this chapter and what you'd like to see for future ones!**

**Oh, totally off topic, but I just discovered DeviantArt and I just want to say to all you artists that the South Park stuff is fantastic and I especially love all the Creek drawings out there! Kudos to you guys! Anyway, on with the show…**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Tweek smiled at Craig through the crack of his door before saying goodnight and closing it with a gentle click. Craig's soft smirk back lingered in Tweek's mind and he rested his forehead against the door, eyes squeezed shut.

"Tweek, what the hell are you doing?" he muttered to himself.

"Good question." Kenny agreed, walking into the kitchen in nothing but a worn pair of jeans. He barely even glanced at Tweek before rummaging through the fridge. "What _are_ you doing and more importantly, who was at the door?"

Tweek turned himself around tiredly, still leaning against the door. He didn't even know where to start in answering Kenny's questions. He'd felt so sure about this in the coffee shop, while he was inundated with Craig's presence. But now that he was left on his own, without Craig's voice and scent and eyes to convince him, all of his doubts came flooding back. Was he stupid for doing this? Was he setting himself up for heartbreak? He knew the old saying, 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me'. He'd have no one to blame but himself if he was hurt again. He would have knowingly let it happen. He felt weighed down by the possibility, like he was powerless to stop the inevitable. Tweek's body sagged against the door until he was sitting on the floor, knees pressed into his chest.

"Tweek?" Kenny called quietly, crouching down in front of his roommate. "Are you okay?"

"Tell me I'm not an idiot." Tweek breathed out, almost pleading.

"Of course, you're not. Why would you think that?"

"Because that was Craig at the door. We're going out tomorrow. We're giving it another shot." Tweek gave a bleak, humorless laugh. "I must be a masochist, to be doing this all over again."

Kenny glanced away from his vulnerable friend and sighed, a pregnant silence filling the room as he absorbed Tweek's words. Kenny didn't like Craig. He didn't have a problem with him as a person, quite the opposite actually. Craig was just so _cool_ in every sense of the word that most people, almost against their will, respected and even admired him. Kenny was no different – until he got to know Tweek. Tweek was one of the few people he knew that saw past the poor, white trash label he'd been born with and the 'constantly-dying-kid' moniker he'd earned over the years. Hell, Tweek had believed in him enough to convince him to go to school and for the first time in his life, Kenny felt like he wasn't doomed to live the life his parents did. That was partially Tweek's doing, though the kid would never take any credit for it. And because Kenny knew what an amazing person Tweek was, he hated Craig on principle alone.

Part of him wanted to yell at Tweek, demand to know what the hell he was thinking! He wanted to remind Tweek of the place he was in emotionally only a year ago and remind him that it was _Craig_ who put him there. He wanted to argue and rant against this stupid, self-destructive idea! He wanted to insult Craig in every way possible until Tweek remembered all of his faults and none of his virtues. Kenny wanted to shake Tweek, as though common sense would fall down from his brain and into his heart at the action.

Kenny almost gave into the idea, even going so far as to put his hands on Tweek's shoulders. But looking into Tweek's lost and hopeful eyes, Kenny deflated. As much as he didn't want to see Tweek hurt, he couldn't bring himself to intervene.

Kenny knew things, things few mortals ever would. He'd held audience with God himself on several occasions. He considered Satan a friend and the Anti-Christ was like a brother to him. He'd met all the angels and saints in Heaven personally. When explaining his apparent immortality to Jesus, he'd been told "Wow, my Dad can be a dick, but that's harsh even for him. I don't envy you, kid". Even _Jesus fucking Christ _thought his lot in life was hard!

Hard as it may be, though, it had gained him a profound wisdom. It was that wisdom – knowledge of people, life, death, priorities and regrets – that made him understand why Tweek was doing this and also, why it was the right choice. Grabbing Tweek's hands and pulling him up gently, Kenny led him into the living room. He fell back onto the sofa, dragging Tweek down with him. Kenny settled the smaller boy between his legs, his chest against Tweek's back and his arms around Tweek's waist.

"You're not an idiot." Kenny said softly, his chin resting on Tweek's shoulder. "You're an optimist and a romantic. You can't help seeing the good in people. Maybe you seeing the good in Craig is exactly what's bringing it out in him."

Tweek rubbed his forehead, leaning back into Kenny's chest. "He was good in the beginning, too, but we all know that didn't last. What if it's the same this time around, Kenny? What if he's good to me just long enough to make me fall in love again and then goes back to being an asshole?"

"Then you leave. You did it once, you can do it again if you have to."

"But why am I even putting myself in a position where I might have to make that choice again?" Tweek cried out exasperatedly. "Jesus, you'd think I would have learned my lesson, but here I am, going back for more like a god-damned puppy!"

"Tweek, you're in love with him." Kenny stated simply. He felt Tweek stiffen in his arms.

"No, I'm n–"

"Don't. Just don't." Kenny shook his head. He knew better. And Tweek knew he knew better. Tweek obviously came to the same conclusion because he fell silent. "Look, I know this is hard for you and it's going to stay hard until you trust him again. But I also know you're doing the right thing here."

"_How_?" Tweek asked desperately, wanting that certainty for himself.

Kenny chuckled. "You know how they say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes? Well, I've died more times than I can count and I can tell you, it's completely true. When I first started dying, in that terrifying moment between life and death, I used to see that memory slideshow every single time. And even now that death isn't scary anymore, I still see it every once in a while. Everything gets this sharp clarity and all my priorities fall in line again. Sometimes I see the people I love. Sometimes I see my plans for the future. But you know what I see more than anything? My regrets. They play in front of my eyes and all I see are missed opportunities…"

Kenny swallowed hard, reliving some of those same regrets before shaking his head and refocusing. "My point is, when you're at the end of your life, you're going to have regrets. But take it from someone who knows, Tweek…the regrets over doing _something_ are a lot easier to bear than the regrets over doing _nothing_. I won't lie to you, you may be hurt if you do this. But if you are, it's going to grow you and shape you into the person you're meant to be, just like it did last time. Who knows, though? Maybe this is the start of something incredible between you and Craig. You'll never know unless you see this through. And if you don't at least try, I know you'll regret it forever."

A calm swept over Tweek as he listened to Kenny. It was almost like the near-death experience Kenny had described; his fears were dying, leaving everything in focus and clearer than ever. Everything was in perspective. Even if he was hurt, it wouldn't be the end of the world. He wouldn't _break_ because of it. He was stronger than that. He'd move on and find happiness again, first within himself and then, if he was lucky, with someone else. When put in terms of life, death and eternity, his experiences with Craig weren't necessarily going to be the end-all, be-all of love. He was only 19, for Christ sakes!

Did he want to spend the rest of his life with Craig? Desperately. Did he love Craig so much that it ached? Absolutely. Would he ever love anyone the way he loved Craig? Never. But that didn't mean his happiness was tied to Craig alone. If things didn't work out between them, Tweek had to believe it's because there would be something better waiting for him, for both of them.

"Wow, Kenny." Tweek murmured. "That was just…wow. Thank you. That's exactly what I needed to hear."

Kenny kissed Tweek's cheek and nuzzled into his neck. "Welcome."

"You're going to make some woman very lucky one day." Tweek sighed happily, burrowing down into Kenny's body and just enjoying the companionship.

"I'd rather make two women lucky tonight."

Tweek glanced back at Kenny and they both burst out laughing.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"This is the best idea you've had maybe ever." Damien whispered, sounding almost giddy. He stuck close to the wall as he moved through the dark shadows.

"I know." Kenny whispered back excitedly, sneaking silently beside his companion. "Do you think he'll piss himself? I really hope he pisses himself."

"Oh Hell, that would make me _so_ happy." Damien sighed wistfully.

Kenny scowled. "You've been hanging around that asshole way too much, Damien."

"He's actually not that bad, once you get to know him."

"Then why are you here?"

"Just 'cause I like him doesn't mean I'm not going to fuck with him." Damien snickered evilly. "Besides, his relationship has too much of an impact on myrelationship for me _not_ to give him a friendly warning. If he screws this up again, I'll have to go _days_ without sex. Fuck that."

"You are such a horny bastard." Kenny chuckled.

"If I am, it's only because Pip's made me one." Damien smirked. "The kid has a sex drive like you wouldn't believe. It totally tanks when he's upset, though, hence why I agreed to do this."

"Yeah, I'm sure it's just for Pip's sake that you're willing to fuck with Craig." Kenny said sarcastically, crouching down to pick the lock on the front door.

"What can I say, I'm a giver." Damien joked, moving carefully into the dark house when Kenny finally cracked the lock.

The two remained silent, moving up the stairs of the quiet house. Kenny had called Damien after Tweek had gone to bed for the night, insisting that they give Craig a little incentive not to fall back into his old habits. Though Tweek was much stronger than he used to be, there was some intrinsic quality to him that made people want to protect him; Damien and Kenny were no exception. Neither of them wanted to see Tweek hurt and they were both slightly evil bastards who wouldn't mind making Craig squirm. It was a 'two birds, one stone' sort of a thing.

Kenny suddenly paused on the stairs and grabbed Damien's sleeve. "Dude, have you ever been to Craig's house before?" he whispered.

"No."

"Then how do we know which room is his?"

"We look, retard."

"But he has a sister who's like…eleven. I'd feel like a total creeper peeking into her room!"

"You're already a total creeper, so no harm done. Now shut the hell up and relax. This is all set to be fucking _epic_ and you're ruining it for me."

"You know what would ruin it for me? Going to prison." Kenny muttered back. Damien just rolled his eyes and continued silently up the stairs. At the landing, there was a hallway with two doors on either side. The one closest to them was decorated with flowers and a poster of Justin Bieber. The one right across the hall from that was cracked open and Damien glanced inside, seeing it was just a bathroom. Moving a few paces down the hall, Damien and Kenny stopped in front of the last door on the right. It had a giant cut out of a hand flipping them off with the words "fuck off" scrawled at the bottom.

Kenny paused, staring at the poster. "Well, that was easier than I thought."

Damien put a finger to his lips, motioning for Kenny to be quiet. Carefully, he turned the doorknob and opened the door just enough to squeeze through. Once they were both inside the dark room, Kenny silently closed the door behind them and glanced around. It was a typical teenage boy's room: piles of clothes and magazines littered the floor, band and movie posters covered the walls and it had a vague man-cave smell to it, like Axe, sweat and beef jerky. There were elements of the room that stood out as unique though, like the coffee maker sitting on top of his dresser when Kenny knew that Craig didn't drink coffee. There were books scattered around the desk, mostly about animals or veterinary science. Although, there was one bright yellow book entitled "Romance for Dummies". Kenny snickered silently at that, making a mental note to give Craig shit for it the next time he saw him.

Kenny looked to Damien, ready to point out the lame book, but saw the demon was staring at a bulletin board near the door. Kenny moved to stand beside him, seeing that the large cork board was completely covered with pictures. Some were of Craig with his group of friends, one or two were pictures of his family, but most of them were of him and Tweek. Craig and Tweek at age nine, surrounded by a chanting circle of elementary school kids as they got ready to fight. Craig and Tweek at age twelve, laughing hysterically together on Tweek's couch. Craig and Tweek at age fourteen, Craig's arm slung casually over Tweek's shoulder and Tweek's face half-buried in Craig's chest. Craig and Tweek at age fifteen, Tweek smiling nervously into the camera, completely oblivious to the slightly hungry look Craig was giving him. Craig and Tweek at age sixteen, somehow kissing and grinning at the same time. Craig and Tweek at age seventeen, the two holding hands through the hallways while Craig flipped off some random passer-by.

All of the pictures framed and surrounded one photo in the middle of the board. It was larger than the others, an 8"x10" rather than wallet size or standard 4"x6". It was of Tweek, alone. Neither boy could tell where the picture was taken. The surroundings were blurred and Tweek was the only thing in focus. They could tell there were people around, though; vague, undefined figures passed through the same space as the blonde. The background not occupied by shadowy outlines was white at the bottom, green at the top. Maybe the boy was outside? It was hard to tell, but no one looking at the picture would have bothered with the question for long. The boy at the center was captivating and drew absolute focus.

He looked stunning; even a self-proclaimed ladies' man like Kenny could admit it. His hair was a wild mess of layers and spikes, the few brownish-red tones in the blonde strands being highlighted by the bright sun. His thin frame stood tall, the blurred background making it seem like he was the only person that mattered, like he was the only thing in the whole world that was _real_. But it was the look on his face and the position of his body that made both boys ache looking at him. Tweek obviously hadn't known a picture was being taken. Instead of the nervous, fake smile he donned for photos, the boy was completely exposed. He was looking down, his face turned slightly to the side. He was hugging himself protectively, one arm around his waist and the other reaching across his chest to grip his shoulder. His chin rested on his wrist and he stared vacantly, clearly lost in his own thoughts. His lips were tilted upward in a barely-there smile that defied description. It could have been sad, wistful, content, longing, forlorn, happy, resigned…any one of a million things. Whatever thoughts that smile reflected, Kenny and Damien would never know. No matter what he was thinking, good or bad, they didn't _want_ to know. The picture was striking enough to make them want to continue staring at it, but the strong, tragic aura of the image overpowered the beauty. The odd combination of tragedy and majesty had a heartbreaking, sickening effect and both boys turned away.

"Damien."

"Yeah?"

"Do your thing, man." Kenny said, shaking his head to rid it of the image. He never wanted to see that look on his friend's face again and if giving Craig a little warning would prevent that, then he was eager to give the prick hell – literally. Kenny smirked. "Let's mess him the fuck up."

Damien grinned back and nodded once, strongly. His eyes glowed red in the darkness of the room as power coursed through his body and the room began to shift. His father didn't approve of him using his powers on Earth and Damien rarely felt the need anyway. However, Satan had an excellent sense of humor and would no doubt get a kick out of Damien's reasons. Damien himself felt the giddy excitement from earlier return. True, he felt the same as Kenny; he didn't ever want to see Tweek laid so bare again. But fucking with Craig was its own reward and he almost wanted to squeal at how fun this was going to be.

The room changed before their eyes, from a teenager's bedroom to a reflection of Hell, all without the sleeping boy's knowledge. Jagged rocks sprung up from the floor and pits of boiling tar and lava dotted the rocky plateau. The ceiling above them disappeared, replaced by a darkened sky streaked with red and saturated with ash. The smell of sulfur and burning flesh spread throughout the room. Far-off screams, nearby moans, the pervasive cackling of demons and the hissing of smoking volcanoes were added to the scene as Damien worked his magic. Finally done, he surveyed the finished landscape and nodded in satisfaction.

"Anything else?" Damien whispered to Kenny.

"We could use a change of costume." Kenny replied, glancing down at his worn parka and jeans.

Damien nodded in agreement. He transformed himself first, from his human form to his demon form. His ears grew points, as did his canines. A tail sprouted from the base of his spine and his shirt disappeared, allowing dark, bat-like wings to erupt from his back. Looking to Kenny, he changed the immortal boy's appearance as well. He removed the blonde's shirt and wings emerged slowly from his back. They were feather wings, like the angels in Heaven. But instead of white, they were a soft gray to reflect his ambiguous standing between the Light and the Dark. His jeans were replaced by black cargo pants and combat boots.

"Badass, dude." Kenny nodded approvingly as he craned his neck to look at his new wings. "Can I –"

"No, you can't keep them." Damien interrupted.

"Fine." Kenny pouted. "You ready to do this?"

Damien didn't reply. Instead, he grinned and snapped his fingers, watching in amusement as Craig's bed disappeared from beneath him and the boy fell onto the hot, hard bedrock below. He grunted as he hit the ground, slowly coming to awareness.

"Sinner!" Damien's voice boomed throughout the cavernous space. He had to hold back a laugh at his own dramatics, but the look of frightened confusion on Craig's face was _so_ worth it.

"Damien?" Craig questioned groggily, pushing himself up from the ground. "What the –"

"Hell?" Damien finished for him, smirking. "Welcome, Craig…to everlasting damnation."

"Abandon all hope, asshole." Kenny grinned, expanding his wings ominously.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Damien woke up the following morning, blinking against the bright sunlight, and grinned to himself. Kicking off the covers and stretching lazily, he scratched at his stomach for a moment before making his way downstairs. As he walked through the living room, he saw Kenny still passed out on the couch. Their encounter with Craig lasted well into the night and the blonde was too tired to walk home, so had crashed at his place. He entered the kitchen, leaning against the doorjamb as he watched Pip making breakfast. The British boy was completely in his element, bustling between the toaster, the stove, the coffee maker and the refrigerator, humming contentedly while doing so. Damien smiled softly at the sight, coming up behind his boyfriend and wrapping his arms around his slim waist.

"Morning, Pip." Damien murmured in his ear, his low voice making the smaller boy shudder. Damien smirked in satisfaction.

"Good morning, love." Pip sighed happily, leaning into Damien's hard chest. "Where were you last night?"

"Kenny and I had an errand to run in Hell." Damien replied vaguely. He wasn't lying, just…omitting. He knew Pip wouldn't approve and it was too early in the morning to be subjected to one of the kid's legendary scoldings.

"Oh, that reminds me! Do tell your father next time you see him that I very much enjoyed the book he recommended."

"Will do." Damien mumbled distractedly, too absorbed with reaching under Pip's shirt to feel the soft skin of his waist to give a flying fuck about books or his father.

"Damien!" Pip hissed, slapping at his hands. "We have company!"

"So?" Damien replied lazily, hands wandering back under Pip's shirt. "Relax, baby. He's asleep."

"No, he's not." Kenny said amusedly, entering the kitchen. "He's hungry, though."

Pip slapped Damien's hands one more time and the demon let out an annoyed huff while glaring at Kenny. Pip slipped out of Damien's grasp and put a plate in front of Kenny, who kissed the British boy's cheek.

"Thanks, Pip."

"You're quite welcome, Kenny." Pip chirped, going back to the stove. "How was your trip to Hell?"

Kenny froze, fork mid-way to his mouth and glanced at Damien. He was about to reply when the three men heard a slow pounding on the front door in a very odd rhythm. Knock…pause...knock...pause...knock...pause.

"Hmm, wonder who that could be?" Pip questioned. "Love, can you answer the door please?"

"Sure." Damien said, striding out of the room.

"I'll go with him." Kenny added quickly, hoping to avoid answering Pip's question.

Kenny caught up to the demon just in time to see him open the door, revealing Craig. The blonde immediately bit his tongue to crush the laughter bubbling in his throat. Craig looked _terrible_, like death warmed over. His face was pale and drawn and there were dark circles under his eyes. There were tremors running through his body, as though he was too weak and exhausted to tolerate standing. His mouth was set in a thin, straight line. Though his eyes were only half-open and blinking heavily, the apathetic man still managed to glare at them through his fatigue.

"Craig. What are you doing here?" Damien questioned with innocent curiosity. Thank god Damien was a good actor, because Kenny felt like he was about to lose it.

"You. Fuckers." Craig growled lowly, steadying himself by gripping the door frame.

"Well, good morning to you too, dickhead." Damien greeted sarcastically.

"Cut the bullshit, Damien. You were at my house last night, weren't you?" Craig accused, pointing a shaky finger at them.

"Dude, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about." Damien replied very slowly, like he was talking to an idiot child. "Are you alright? You look like shit."

"Of course, I look like shit!" Craig snapped. "I spent the night in Hell with you two!"

"Craig, mortals can't go to Hell unless they're dead first." Damien explained patiently. "Seriously, man, you're starting to freak me out. What's going on?"

"But…but…" Craig sputtered, looking confused. "I was there! There were volcanoes and you had wings and the smell was awful and everything was hot and god, I'm so _tired_…"

Kenny was shaking silently, all of the muscles in his body tense from holding in his laughter. Damien, on the other hand, was composed as ever. "Sounds like one hell of a dream. No pun intended."

"Fuck you. I wasn't dreaming." Craig denied, though sounding much less sure of himself. "I was there. And so were you guys. And Tweek…"

"What about Tweek?" Damien asked, the smirk on his lips so small that no one would notice unless they were looking for it.

Kenny pressed a fist into his mouth, the occasional silent squeak coming from his mouth as the urge to burst out laughing grew unbearable. Damien discretely elbowed him in the ribs, raising an eyebrow warningly as if saying, _be cool_. Kenny nodded, trying to control himself as he remembered last night. They had wanted to teach Craig a lesson he would never forget and it looks as though they'd succeeded.

"He was so close…" Craig muttered vacantly, almost like he was talking to himself. "He looked like his picture, standing still and hugging himself. I just wanted to get to him and hold him, but I couldn't ever reach him."

Damien smiled internally at the boy's ramblings. That had been a stroke of genius on his part. Part Greek myth, part real imagery and partly Craig's own fears had built the scene, showing Craig what it would feel like if he hurt Tweek again. The blonde was building a life in South Park and wouldn't leave town next time; he'd always be so close, but never in reach. The entire evening was much easier than Damien anticipated. Craig's own subconscious had done most of the work for him, revealing his fears in scenario after scenario. Craig saw himself alone and bitter. He saw Tweek spend his life with someone else. He saw Tweek crying and he saw himself crying because of it. He watched Tweek pack a suitcase and write a note, preparing to leave him again. But the image that kept popping up more than anything was the image of Tweek that they'd seen in the photo. That gut-wrenching image meant something to Craig, something much deeper than what they'd experienced looking at it. He'd chased after the phantom-Tweek most of the night, trying to catch up to him but Damien had never allowed him the satisfaction.

Retrieving the hidden fears from Craig's mind and playing them before his eyes was all the warning he'd ever need to not hurt Tweek again.

"Look, dude." Damien said gently. The tone was so out of place on the demon that Craig would have been suspicious if he was any less exhausted. "You're probably just stressing out over getting Tweek back. You know this is your last chance and if you screw up –"

"No _fucking_ way am I screwing this up!" Craig roared, protesting so violently to the accusation that Damien and Kenny flinched in surprise. "Maybe it was a dream! But now that I know _exactly_ how shitty the rest of my life will be without him, I may as well just fucking propose now!"

Damien blinked. Okay, maybe they'd pushed him too far. "Um, might want to hold off on that until Tweek, you know, likes you again."

"Yeah." Kenny agreed, wide-eyed and nodding quickly. "You're not thinking clearly. Get some rest."

"What's all the ruckus?" Pip asked, sticking his head out from the kitchen. Once he saw Craig, he rushed out and put his hands on the other boy's face worriedly. "Craig, darling, are you alright? You look awful!"

Craig shook his head dazedly. "I'm fine."

"What are you doing here? Don't you have a date with Tweek tonight?"

Craig straightened at the thought and nodded forcefully. "Yeah. I do. I should go and get some things ready."

Pip nodded. "Try to get some sleep first, alright?"

"Yeah, maybe. Thanks, Pip." Craig gave a tired smile at the Brit before turning to the other two boys. "Sorry, I guess. You know, for accusing you of dragging me to Hell and all that. I'll see you guys later, okay?"

Craig left quickly, while Pip rounded on the two boys with his eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Damien denied quickly. "Come on, Pip, are you seriously going to blame me for his obviously_ disturbed_ subconscious?"

Pip pursed his lips, hands on his hips as he glared at the two. Finally, he sighed. "You know what? I don't want to know. Whatever you did, just don't make a habit out of it. The poor boy looked tore up from the floor up."

Pip left for the kitchen, leaving the two men alone in the living room. Damien and Kenny looked at each other. Not only had they taught Craig a lesson and had disgusting amounts of fun doing so, but they got away with it too! They smirked and shared a fist bump.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**So this chapter was more about Tweek and Craig's feelings about the upcoming dates than any real action. And of course, Kenny and Damien being their devious, asshole selves :) The next chapter is going to focus on Tweek and Craig actually going out. More fluff, more conflict, more emotions, more awesomeness!**

**Also, if you guys have any suggestions for the dates Tweek and Craig could go on let me know!**

**Please read and review!**


	6. Renewed Chance

**Disclaimer: belongs to Matt and Trey!**

**Thanks so much to those of you who reviewed the last chapter. I hope this one satisfies!**

**Also, A MASSIVE THANK YOU to AzyumiChan! She created a beautiful piece of fan art based on a scene from this story in chapter 4. Please check it out at the link below!**

** art/give-us-another-chance-260215509**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Tweek reached for his fourth cup of coffee in less than an hour, his hand shaking slightly. Whether from nerves or caffeine, he'd never know. Craig was coming over in a couple of hours for their first date. Not just their first date since breaking up, their first date _ever_. Sure, the majority of his childhood and teenage years had been spent in Craig's company, but never anything as formal and terrifying as a date. They'd been hanging out with each other since they were nine years old, so even when they became boyfriends, spending time together still had the casual, _pressureless_ feel of their friendship. There was no need to go on dates when they already knew each other so well. Besides, things like going out to eat, taking a walk through the park or seeing a movie together could hardly be called a date all of the sudden; they'd been doing those things with each other for years.

But this was different. This wasn't just an effortless friendship or a naturally evolving relationship. This was a fucking _date_, piled with all of the pressure of their hopes, their fears, their desires and their whole fucking future together!

"_Ngh_!" Tweek whined anxiously, tugging at his hair. "J-Jesus Christ!"

"Tweek!" Kenny called out from across the apartment.

"Y-Yeah?" Tweek shouted in reply.

"Have you seen my-"

"Hall closet." Tweek yelled back distractedly, going back to his coffee mug. His hand shook again as he brought the cup back to his mouth.

Kenny came into the kitchen, casually slipping an arm into the brown leather bomber jacket he'd retrieved from the closet. He slung an arm over Tweek's shoulder and kissed the top of the coffee addict's head before moving to the table by the front door. "Thanks, man. I don't even remember putting it in there."

"You didn't." Tweek mumbled, reaching for the sugar and adding more to his cup. "You left it on the living room floor. I put it in the closet, where it belongs."

Kenny chuckled and grabbed his keys. "Point taken, dude. I'll try not to leave my shit everywhere."

"Where are you off to?" Tweek asked.

"Date."

"Yeah." A violent shudder ran through Tweek's body and he whimpered. "M-me, too."

"Tweek, relax." Kenny laughed. "It's just Craig, for Christ sakes. Not like you haven't done this a million times before."

"But that's just it! We've never been on a date!" Tweek cried anxiously, the flood gates of his paranoia bursting open. "What do I do when we go out? Do I let him pay? Do we go Dutch? What if the check comes and I just sit there and then there's that awkward moment when neither of us knows whose paying? What if he feels pressured into paying when he thought we were going Dutch and then resents me and thinks I'm a rude dickhole? Or what if I assume we're going Dutch and I pay for my part and then he feels slighted? Am I supposed to give him a gift? He already got me my coffee plant, if I don't get him something I'm going to seem like a totally selfish douchebag and he'll think he's wasting his time and then the date will be all silent and weird! Or what if I do get him something and he thinks I'm a pansy asshole? Oh, Jesus! What if he-"

"Tweek." Kenny interrupted, grabbing the smaller boy's face and forcing him to look up. "Calm the fuck down, dude. You're completely over thinking this."

"_GAH_!" Tweek burst out, twitching. He tried taking a few deep breaths, eventually calming enough to nod jerkily at his roommate. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Now, I've got to go or I'm going to be late. You good?" Kenny asked.

Tweek resisted the urge to pull his hair; he nodded instead. "Yeah."

"Cool. Try to have some fun, okay?" Kenny said, walking out the door. Just when he was about to close it behind him, the mischievous blonde poked his head back into the room. "Oh, and Tweek? No fucking him tonight. Make him work for it."

"JESUS!" Tweek shrieked as Kenny laughed and closed the door. Tweek was left shaking even worse than before. He hadn't even thought of that! His nervous gaze darted around the room, squeaks and anxious noises bursting out of him at random intervals. He knew he was close to losing it, but had learned how to distract himself from impending freak-outs. He needed to keep his mind and his body busy, so grabbed his iPod and cranked up the volume on some new club tune. The bass pounded in his ears and blocked out all the splintering, ridiculous scenarios in his head and he reached for his now empty mug, placing it in the sink.

Music was great for distracting his mind and cleaning was perfect for occupying his body. Besides, he had time to kill before Craig came by anyway. He filled up the sink with frothy, warm water and started to do the dishes. After that chore was done, he was in the groove and bustled around the entire apartment, cleaning as he went. He vacuumed the blinds and pulled the fridge out so he could clean behind it, all the while shaking his hips and humming to the lyrics of each song he heard. He even took the cushions off the couch to pick up the spare change that had slipped through the cracks and vacuum out all the crumbs.

When he was done, he crossed the room and put the $3.46 worth of change he'd found into their change jar. Turning back to the catastrophe that was his living room, he saw discarded couch cushions, chairs pulled out from the table, and blankets waiting to be carefully refolded.

His eyes lit up with delight at the sudden, childish idea that sprung into his mind. He couldn't resist giving in. He grinned to himself and positioned one of the dining room chairs.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Craig eyes narrowed in determination as he stepped out of his car and started walking up to Tweek's apartment building. He'd had a rough fucking night thanks to one of the most vivid dreams he'd ever had, outside of wet dreams featuring Tweek when he was younger. It was terrifying, due only in part to the setting in Hell and the relentless taunts of dream-Kenny and dream-Damien. Mostly, it was the feeling of hopelessness that had hollowed out his heart and the fear clamping down on his throat that burned the vision into his brain.

He'd seen a thousand possible futures in that nightmarish place, but they all had two things in common: Tweek wasn't his and he was fucking miserable. A dream that realistic, so hauntingly _possible_, couldn't help but force a person to rethink their life. Craig was no different and had lain awake all night doing just that.

Craig knew there were many things that were iconically _him_: his habit of flipping everyone off; his trademark winter hat; his extreme creativity when insulting someone; his nasally, monotone voice. They were all classic Craig traits, but most people would probably point to his infuriating, unshakable apathy as his most defining quality and never bother to look deeper than that.

But there was a reason he was so indifferent, one that showed itself in everything he did. It was why he wasn't afraid to go against the crowd, even if it made him unpopular. It was how he was able to let the opinions of others roll off his back. And that simple, immutable fact was that he knew his own mind; he knew what he liked, what he hated, who was worth his time, what he needed in life and how to get it. He didn't question it, didn't second guess himself, and never over-analyzed. Life is just that simple when you let it be and Craig had always thought that was his greatest strength.

The dream had made one thing indisputably clear to him: Tweek was more than his savior, more than his love even. Tweek was his _future_. When they'd been apart, Craig had only ever thought of getting him back, not where the relationship would go from there. Even when he'd started this whole courting campaign, his plans never went beyond the immediate goal at hand. But now it was so obvious, so inevitable, he was amazed he'd never given it any thought before. Damien and Kenny thought he was joking, but he was serious as a fucking heart attack: he _was_ going to propose to Tweek someday. And since he knew his own mind and accepted his own desires so readily, he embraced the idea rather than fighting against it.

With that bigger perspective in mind, he'd become even _more_ determined to get Tweek back, if that was possible. Last night had him exhausted and strained, but finally figuring out what he wanted for his future had given him an incredible adrenaline rush and left him with startling mental clarity. Despite Pip advising him to get some sleep, he'd stayed awake all day planning their date down to the last detail.

He'd made reservations at the nicest restaurant in the area, an Italian place in North Park. Park County Community College was also in North Park and after dinner, Craig planned on taking Tweek on a walk through the grounds. It really was a beautiful campus, interspersed with rustic brick buildings, thickly wooded areas and dimly illuminated walkways. Since it was summer, nighttime and a weekend, the campus should be practically abandoned and it would just be the two of them. It was romantic, intimate and focused on the future…in other words, it was perfect. Craig wasn't a romantic or sentimental guy, but god-damned if he wasn't fucking proud of himself over this.

Finally reaching the door of Tweek's apartment, Craig knocked strongly. He chuckled to himself when he heard a squeak of, "Oh, Jesus!" from inside.

Tweek practically threw the door open, his eyes wide. "H-hey, Craig!"

"Hi, Tweek. Are you re-…Is that a couch cushion?"

Tweek looked down at the couch cushion he was unconsciously hugging to his body before snapping his eyes back up to Craig's and throwing the cushion aside quickly. He blushed. "Um…no?"

Craig grinned, amused and more than a little intrigued. "What are you doing in there?"

"Nothing!" Tweek yelped. He inched the door closed until it was cracked open just enough for his slim body. Craig raised an eyebrow at the movement, his smile turning into a wicked smirk. Putting his hand on the door, Craig stepped toward Tweek until their bodies were nearly touching. Tweek instinctively stepped back. He was focused so completely on Craig's lean body and his darkening irises that he forgot all about his little project in the living room. Craig, despite being equally distracted by Tweek's quickened breathing and his slightly parted lips, did not.

He continued advancing on Tweek, the blonde matching every step Craig took forward with his own hesitant step back. Once Craig was inside and had kicked the door closed with his foot, he let his seductive smirk turn into a mischievous grin before dashing to the door that separated the kitchen from the living room. After realizing he'd been tricked, Tweek yelped out a _Gah! _and ran after him. He managed to grab the back of Craig's shirt to yank him back, but Craig reached the door at the same moment. He passed through the swinging door and Tweek ran into his back when he stopped short at the sight before him, making them both stumble.

Craig grinned at the state of the living room. "Tweek?"

"What?" came Tweek's mumbled, embarrassed reply as he buried his face between Craig's shoulder blades.

"Is this what I think it is?"

Tweek groaned in humiliation. "Yes."

Craig laughed, eyes passing over the half-finished project in the living room. There was a tall ladder in the middle of the room, in front of the couch. Kitchen chairs surrounded the ladder and couch cushions and pillows were laid out on the floor around it. A blanket hung off the top of the ladder and draped across the back of the couch.

"You're building a fort." Craig snickered. "God, you are so fucking cute, Tweek."

Tweek smacked the side of Craig's head, face still pressed against his back. "Shut up. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing."

Craig turned around, grabbing Tweek's hand and leading him further into the living room. "Come on."

"W-what are you doing?"

"_We_ are finishing this fort." Craig grinned.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Craig's plans for the perfect date were completely ruined. Their reservation time for the perfect little Italian restaurant had passed. It was too late for the perfect, romantic walk through the perfect, intimate setting of the college campus. They wouldn't be having a perfectly heartfelt discussion about their future tonight. His carefully-crafted, well-planned, fucking _perfect_ date was totally unsalvageable.

And he couldn't be happier.

This was _so_ much better. They'd spent an hour completing their fort, in between wrestling, throwing pillows at each other and occasionally giving the other a teasing kiss. Then they'd ducked under the tented blankets and talked and laughed for hours. Now they were lying side-by-side on their stomachs and making fun of a truly terrible movie.

"Oh, come on!" Tweek yelled at the TV screen. "A car flying through the air to crash into a fucking helicopter? Was the director high?"

"Boo!" Craig jeered, throwing popcorn at the screen. "Bruce Willis is a senior fucking citizen and they're still trying to make him into a badass! Give it up, butt-wipes!"

Tweek laughed, eyes glued to the screen and completely oblivious to Craig glancing at him from the corner of his eye. If he'd had any doubts about Tweek, tonight would have laid them all to rest. The beautiful blonde was the love of his fucking life, but tonight had reminded him that before all this adult stuff, they had been best friends. They told each other everything, they got each other's sense of humor and they always had a good time together no matter what they were doing. They were completely comfortable and completely _themselves_ around the other; no awkwardness, no pretending, no need to impress.

God, he couldn't be more in love with Tweek if he tried.

"Jesus, Timothy Olyphant can't carry the whole fucking movie, you guys! Try acting!" Tweek scoffed, digging more popcorn out of the bowl between them.

"Hey, the ninja chick is pulling her weight!"

"Is not! She says like four words the whole movie!"

"At least she kicks ass. Justin Long is an intolerable pussy in this movie!"

"In _this_ movie? Name one movie where he's not a little bitch!"

"Zack and Miri Make a Porno. He's the shit in that movie." Craig smirked triumphantly.

"Touché." Tweek grinned, bumping his shoulder against Craig's playfully. "Even though he plays a flaming fudge-packer."

Craig laughed and went back to watching the movie. Tweek's eyes lingered on his profile for a moment. He turned back to the screen, a small smile on his face, even though he mind was still on the boy lying next to him. Tweek could feel his denial cracking. He'd tried to keep everything he felt for Craig buried, but there was a deep, ardent love between them that had endured despite everything. Strong desire and lust had always been part of their relationship, making their sex life nothing short of stellar. But this, a friendship so solid that it was part of his identity, is what Tweek missed the most. Losing Craig as a lover was hard, but losing him as a best friend was worse. This easy, playful rapport was the first thing to go when their relationship had started to fall apart and Tweek was glad it was also the first thing they were rediscovering this time around.

Jesus, at this rate, he'd fall totally back in love with Craig in no time.

"Want to watch another one?" Craig asked.

Tweek looked at the rolling credits on the screen, realizing he'd been spacing out for a good chunk of the movie. "Sure. You pick."

Craig went to their DVD collection and grinned, plucking one from the shelf. Showing the case to Tweek, the blonde rolled his eyes and laughed. "Really?"

"If we're going to make fun of movies, may as well go all out! It doesn't get any worse than Crank."

"Too true."

Craig popped the DVD in the player and resettled himself next to Tweek so they were shoulder to shoulder. He picked up his can of soda and held it up to the blonde. "To the best first date ever." Craig toasted jokingly.

"Here, here." Tweek grinned, tapping his can against Craig's.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Kenny entered his dark apartment around two in the morning, sated and pleasantly sore after another satisfying encounter. He pulled open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and a handful of grapes before heading off to bed. Pushing the swinging door of the kitchen open, he froze. A giant fort had been erected in his absence, taking over the living room. Moving in closer, he saw that Craig and Tweek were asleep inside, their entwined bodies illuminated by the blue screen of the TV. Craig had an arm wrapped around Tweek's waist and the blonde's arm was laid on top of his, their fingers laced together. One of Craig's legs was thrown over Tweek's thighs and his face was nuzzled into the smaller boy's neck.

Kenny ducked into the fort silently and snapped a picture with his cell phone. He smiled; the photo would make a great addition to Craig's bulletin board. Kenny covered the two with a blanket and walked into his room, leaving the two lovers to their contented slumber.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Please read and review! I'd love to hear what you guys think so far! Also, if you have any ideas for future dates, let me know.**


	7. Fragile Chance

**Sorry for the long wait, I had trouble getting started on this chapter. Hope it meets with your approval!**

**Thanks again to all the people who've reviewed, it really makes my day when I see your comments!**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Damien stared at the couple across from him, his expression torn between bewilderment and morbid curiosity. His head was tilted to the side, mouth gaping open slightly and eyes squinting in confusion. Beside him, Pip appeared equally engrossed with the spectacle Craig and Tweek were unknowingly putting on. Though Friday nights at Shaky's Pizza were hardly known as subdued affairs, not even the rowdy, loud crowds could distract the two from their intense study of the newly-formed couple.

"How are they…?" Damien started quietly, trailing off when his interest was re-hooked by the conversation across the table.

Pip shook his head, clearly as baffled as his lover. "I haven't a bloody clue."

"It's like watching a circus freak show." Damien said in awe.

"Utter fascination over some odd, disturbing skill." Pip agreed, understanding where Damien was coming from and seeing the demon nod from his periphery. "It's rather hypnotic, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Have they always been like this?"

"I'm not sure. I can't recall them doing this before."

"How do you think this weird system evolved?" Damien asked, rapt attention still on the oblivious couple.

"My guess? Tweek's random thought-process."

"Or Craig's lack of impulse control."

"Or Tweek's inability to focus."

"Or Craig's boredom for normal conversation."

Damien and Pip fell silent again, watching their friends. Across the table, Tweek and Craig sat side by side in the booth. Craig had an arm around Tweek's shoulders and Tweek had a hand on Craig's knee, both eating with their spare hand and absorbed in their own exchange. It was no wonder neither had caught onto the fact they were being watched rather closely, as it likely took every ounce of concentration to follow their disjointed, winding conversation.

"Come on, Tweek. Just one visit to the shelter, that's all I'm asking. You'll like it, I promise."

"No." Tweek replied, before holding up his fork for Craig's inspection. "Is this a mushroom or a piece of spinach?"

Craig looked at the marinara-covered blob closely. "Mushroom. It's Italian, what did you expect?"

"I don't want to go to the shelter, Craig! I can deal with Hussy, but the shelter has huge dogs and lizards and stuff!" Tweek cried. "And Italian food is just as likely to use spinach as mushrooms."

"Nuh-uh. Mushrooms are right up there with tomatoes in Italian food; they're in everything. And the animals will be in cages, Tweek. Not to mention, I'll be there. Nothing will get you."

"What if I'm allergic to one of the animals and I go into anaphylactic shock? Oh, Jesus!" Tweek yelped, before taking another bite. "Gnocchi is one of the most popular Italian dishes and what does it have in it? Spinach, that's what."

"I like that word. Gnocchi. _Gnocchi_." Craig mused to himself. "And who doesn't know how to tell the difference between spinach and a mushroom anyway? It's like that whole Jessica Simpson, tuna vs. chicken thing."

Tweek glared at Craig. "I really hope you didn't just compare me to Jessica Simpson. Number one, she's a girl. Number two, she's retarded. And number three, that would make you Nick Lachey and _nobody_ wants that."

"What if I bought an epi-pen? Will you stop by the shelter then?"

"Offering to stab me with a needle isn't exactly the best incentive, Craig. This whole thing can be avoided if I just _don't go_."

"Nick Lachey's not nearly as bad as some of the other boy-band rejects. If you compared me to, say, Joey Fatone, then we'd have a problem."

"He married a _retard_, Craig."

"Joey Fatone?"

"No! Nick Lachey!"

"What if I covered up the lizard's terrariums and put the bigger dogs outside? Then would you come?"

"Ugh, fine!" Tweek exploded.

"Yes!" Craig pumped his fist in triumph before kissing Tweek on the cheek.

"Do you think it's some kind of foreplay?" Pip asked Damien quietly. Though not quietly enough, as both Tweek and Craig turned to their friends with their heads tilted in curiosity. Oddly enough their expressions mirrored Pip and Damien's.

"Is what foreplay?" Tweek inquired.

"And who's doing it?" Craig asked, looking around the room.

"Nothing!" Pip exclaimed, while Damien drawled, "No one."

"You guys are so weird." Craig stated monotonously, Tweek nodding beside him.

Damien and Pip glanced at each other. Pip's lips quirked up in a badly-suppressed smile, which made Damien's lips twitch until suddenly and simultaneously, they both burst out laughing. That Craig and Tweek could call _them_ the strange ones after a conversation like _that_ – with straight faces, no less – was just too much!

"Fucking crazies, man." Craig shook his head.

"Tell me about it." Tweek commiserated.

This only made the Anti-Christ and the Brit laugh harder.

"If you guys are done riding your Nitrous high, we should head out to Bebe's place." Craig said, rising and throwing a couple of bills on the table. "If we don't leave now, all the booze will be gone. I'm not dealing with those assholes sober."

"It'll be cool seeing everyone again!" Tweek chirped, rising as well. "Almost the whole senior class is back, some just for Bebe's End of the Summer party."

"Whatever." Damien said, still chuckling. "I'm with Craig. Drinks first, then socializing."

"So let's _go_, then." Craig said impatiently.

"This is gonna be a night to remember!" Tweek declared happily.

For some reason, Craig got an odd sense of foreboding at those seemingly-innocuous, secretly-ominous words. But he forced the feeling aside with staunch determination. He and Tweek had been dating for six glorious weeks. Everything had been going brilliantly so far and _nothing_ was going to ruin that.

Craig smacked his forehead and groaned.

Fuck, he probably just jinxed himself.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Goodness, Bebe certainly has outdone herself." Pip commented as the foursome approached her house. People were spilling out onto the yard, music reverberated through the area and two kegs were on the front lawn alone. Damien grabbed Pip's hand and made a beeline for the nearest keg.

"Beer bong." The demon breathed with trance-like focus.

"But Damien –"

"_Beer bong_, Pip!" Damien repeated insistently.

"Right-o, then. See you chaps later!" Pip shouted to Craig and Tweek as he was dragged away.

The two chuckled at their friends, making their way into the house with their fingers laced together. Tweek was, as always, completely oblivious to the stares and whispered gossip as they walked in. Sometimes Craig envied his social ignorance. Though Craig didn't put too much stock in the influence of the grapevine, it irked him more than a little. People were glancing at their joined hands; hushed and hurried conversations resulted. Everyone knew the back story of how he'd treated Tweek and how Tweek had left him. But how they'd gotten back together was still a mystery to most and the all-powerful gossip mill had created its own version, which went something like this: Craig was a cruel asshole who all but forced Tweek to be with him and Tweek was a dependent moron who was too weak-willed to say no.

It didn't bother Craig that people thought he was a rude, cold bastard. In most cases, they were right. Though, not where Tweek was concerned; Tweek was the sole exception and it _did_ bother him that no one understood that. That people thought he could still be so uncaring toward Tweek was a vivid reminder of how he used to be, of the events that led Tweek to leave him in the first place. It hit a little too close to home and he didn't like it.

But what he truly hated were the half-pitying, half-disgusted glances some threw at Tweek. They still saw him as the sad, abused boy he had been and the thought enraged Craig. His Tweek was stronger than anyone he knew, including these worthless fuckers!

He flipped off the nearest group of gawkers, glaring at them harshly. "Fuck. Off. Dickholes."

The words were drowned by the pounding music, but he said them slowly enough that the group didn't need to hear them to get the message. They looked away quickly and moved through the crowd like an amorphous blob to put some distance between themselves and the fuming noirette.

"I need a drink!" Craig shouted into Tweek's ear.

"This way!" Tweek yelled back, pulling Craig to the wet bar and getting them both red, plastic cups.

Tweek playfully tapped his cup against Craig's in a teasing reminder of their first date and they both chugged down their drinks. Tweek let out at disgusted "_Gah!_" before grabbing another two cups and handing one to Craig.

"Tweek!" someone shouted in the crowd. They both looked around and saw Stan and Kyle waving at Tweek.

Tweek knew Craig hated those guys so just gave him a quick kiss. "I'll catch up to you later, okay!"

"Okay." Craig shouted. However, he wasn't satisfied with the short peck and pulled his boyfriend in for a deeper kiss. He pressed his body into Tweek's and moved his lips confidently and firmly over the blonde's. A quiet moan came from Tweek's throat, one Craig felt rather than heard. The soft friction made his lips tingle and he cupped Tweek's jaw before running his tongue over the seam of his lips. Tweek's mouth opened slightly, enough for Craig to slip inside and taste and explore him fully. The blonde ran a hand through Craig's hair, gripping the strands at the nape of his neck and pulling him in even closer. Craig groaned, loving the sensual combination of neediness and forcefulness that only Tweek could pull off.

Just when the kiss was about to leave 'passionate' in the dust and become 'out-of-control, fuck-me-now sexual', Craig ended it, panting slightly. Tweek looked completely dazed and Craig smirked smugly. Tweek noticed the look and gave him a mock-glare.

"No fair." Tweek shouted, detangling himself from Craig and making his way through the crowd.

"You know you loved it!" Craig yelled at his back, still smirking. Tweek glanced back at him, a coy, mischievous smile on his face that said, 'I _so_ did'.

Craig wouldn't let his expression get any more emotional than a smirk, so suppressed his grin and took another gulp of his drink. He turned back to the bar and nodded along to the music, not the least bit interested in mingling; he wasn't nearly drunk enough for that yet. After he'd finished his third cup of non-descript-alcoholic-beverage and was reaching for a fourth, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Hey, dude! Long time, no see!" came Token's familiar voice, booming close to Craig's ear over the thumping music.

Craig turned at the loud shout, only to see Clyde and Token grinning like the drunken idiots they were. He nodded back mildly and gave them both casual bro-hugs, hands clasped between their bodies and the free hand giving a hearty slap to the other's shoulder blade.

"Hey, guys." Craig yelled over the din. "How's it going?"

"Good!" Clyde shouted back. The sound was drowned out by a particularly strong bass line, so Token jerked his head toward the kitchen and the three started walking out of the crowded living room. Craig's eyes searched for Tweek's slim form through the sea of bodies as he left, zeroing in on him almost immediately. He wasn't surprised to find Tweek's eyes already on him, a hint of insecurity under his sweet smile. Craig knew why, of course. Despite how far they'd come, the whole scene was too familiar for Tweek not to be nervous. Craig's lips tilted up slightly and he winked at his boyfriend. It had the desired effect; the worried creases on the blonde's forehead smoothed out and his smile widened as he winked back before returning to his conversation with Stan and Kyle.

The three friends entered the kitchen. Token and Craig hopped up onto the counter and Clyde stood in front of them, all sipping their drinks.

"That's better." Token said.

"Been a while. What have you guys been up to?" Craig asked.

The three caught up on the mundane aspects of life for a while. Clyde was studying at the University of Colorado and was thinking about majoring in Business. Though bi-sexual, he was dating a girl from his marketing class and had been for most of the year. Like always, he fell hard and fast and was convinced she was the love of his life. Token was pre-Med at Yale, one of the only people to get out of Colorado altogether. He was single and playing the field like the stud he was. Craig filled them in on his year as well, focusing on school and work.

"So…you and Tweek are back together." Token said casually. It was too casual, in a way that suggested he'd been dying to ask for a while.

"Yep." Craig said, taking another swig of his drink.

"Are you going to tell us how the fuck you managed that?" Clyde asked. "'Cause, no offense dude, but that was about as likely as Cartman becoming a Rabbi."

Craig glared at him. "Fuck you, asshole."

"It's true, though. We had odds on it." Token added, shrugging.

"I love him." Craig snapped. Clyde choked on his drink at that highly uncharacteristic outburst and Token merely raised an eyebrow. Trying to save face, Craig continued smugly. "Besides, when was the last time I wanted something and _didn't_ get it?"

"Omitting the entire year you were a morose pussy because you couldn't get him back?" Token smirked.

Craig paused. "Yes."

Token laughed. "Well, I'm happy for you, man. He's good for you and you're a hell of a lot more tolerable when you're together."

"Must be the sex." Clyde chimed in. A faint blush came across Craig's cheeks and he raised his cup to cover it. Clyde and Token caught it, though.

"Jesus, don't get shy now, Craig." Token grinned, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah." Clyde laughed. "The way you used to talk about sex with Tweek was like the hottest erotica on the planet! Seriously, if they made a porno half as hardcore as the stories you told, they'd have to add an extra X to the rating. You had most of the guys in class seeing Tweek in a whole new light. Me included."

"It would be better for you if you never said anything like that again. Ever." Craig growled.

"Relax, I'm in a girl-phase right now." Clyde replied easily. He couldn't resist pushing Craig's buttons, though. "But I would do Tweek in a heartbeat."

"Clyde, don't push me." Craig warned. "One more comment and I'll tear your sack off like a paper towel."

"Easy, man." Token said soothingly. "Christ, anyone would think you _weren't _getting laid."

That sneaky blush returned to Craig's cheeks and his two friends gawked at him. "Shit, you and Tweek haven't…?" Token asked.

"Oh…oh, thank you God." Clyde whispered, looking giddy at the prospect of ripping on Craig for this. One death glare from Craig was enough to shut him up, though.

"What's the hold up?" Token asked, genuinely curious.

"That's none of your fucking business." Craig muttered, taking a large gulp of his drink and thinking back to the incident a week ago.

_They'd been dating for a little over a month and things had been going great between them. They played video games at Craig's house, went to dinner with Pip and Damien, watched movies at Tweek's apartment and spent time just talking and getting reacquainted with each other. He used to visit Tweek at the coffee shop, but Tweek had banned him after he'd gotten into another fight with Dylan, saying the shop couldn't afford to lose the business the Goths brought in. Though they hung out nearly every day, Craig made a point to take Tweek on a real date at least once a week and tonight had been another date night._

_Craig had participated in his first foaling the week before and got to know the rancher's daughter. He'd convinced her to take him and Tweek on a carriage ride around Stark's pond. Even though the horse had spent the first half-mile crapping with its tail in the air, he and Tweek had gotten a good laugh out of it and the rest of the date was pretty damn romantic. Tweek had spent the ride cuddled into his side, his hands sneaking under Craig's shirt and occasionally burying his face into Craig's neck for warmth. Craig stuffed his hand into Tweek's back pocket and rested his cheek on the blonde's head. They shared a set of ear-buds as they listened to Tweek's iPod; he played a Massive Attack album, the sensual, deep rhythms floating between them. The ride was spent in comfortable, intimate silence punctuated by lingering kisses and contented sighs._

_Afterward, he'd driven Tweek home and walked him to his apartment. Tweek had given him a deep, goodnight kiss, but Craig couldn't let the blonde go. They'd fumbled with the door, making their way inside without ever breaking the kiss. He kept moving forward, backing Tweek up and stripping them both of their coats, until they were tumbling onto the couch in a tangle of limbs. He wanted Tweek so badly; it had been so long…too long. Tweek tore his lips from Craig's with a gasp, trailing kisses up his jaw line and then curling his tongue around the noirette's earlobe. Craig groaned, dropping his head to Tweek's shoulder and gently biting the skin there as Tweek worked his magic. His tongue traced the shell of Craig's ear, his breathy moans hot against his skin. Craig could feel himself harden at the sensation and bucked his hips into Tweek's, finding Tweek already hard underneath him. Craig pulled his body away from Tweek for a split second, just long enough to remove his shirt; one hand pulled it over his head while the other stayed on Tweek's hip. Tweek's hands immediately flew to Craig's exposed chest, running his fingers along the firm pecs and defined abs. The noirette moaned, driving his mouth back onto Tweek's. His hips surged forward again and were met by Tweek's reflexive thrust. Tweek cried out into his mouth before kissing him even more fervently than before. _

_Craig's hand slipped up Tweek's shirt, relishing the familiar feeling of his soft, hot skin. He ran a thumb over one of Tweek's nipples, feeling a shudder rake through the smaller boy's body. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger and then traced the trail of fine hair down Tweek's stomach to the edge of his boxers. Tweek was absorbed with their kiss, nibbling Craig's bottom lip in the most delicious way, so Craig took the opportunity to plunge his hand past Tweek's jeans and grip the blonde's cock. He pumped it twice, dragging his hand up and down the length slowly, before he realized Tweek had frozen beneath him. _

_Craig opened his eyes and broke the kiss, looking down on his boyfriend. The blonde's eyes were wide, fear and apprehension in their depths. As with the rest of the evening, no words were needed between them. It came down to the one issue that still stood between them: trust. The look in his eyes said it all. Tweek still didn't trust him, not with this anyway, not yet. Craig felt his chest ache at the realization and his thoughts warred in his head._

_This had happened before, when they first got together. Tweek had been nervous when they first started fooling around. Not necessarily unwilling, just unsure and a tad reluctant. Craig had always pushed past Tweek's moments of indecision; the half-hearted no's whispered by the blonde and the anxious hesitation were replaced by lust when Craig didn't relent. He'd continue his sensual assault on Tweek's responsive, sensitized body and the smaller boy would soon be lost to the sensations, his reluctance completely gone._

_But Craig somehow knew if he did that this time, the delicate balance between them would be lost. The little trust he'd earned in the past month would shatter if he put his needs – and what he felt for Tweek in this moment absolutely _was_ need – above Tweek's. For the first time in their relationship, Craig set aside his own desires._

_His hand, still clasped firmly around Tweek's cock, released its hold and came back to up to Tweek's face. He ran his thumb over Tweek's eyebrow tenderly and Tweek turned his head to the side, his expression full of shame._

"_I'm sorry." Tweek whispered, eyes shut tight._

_Craig cupped the side of Tweek's face and brought it back in line with his. He waited for Tweek to open his eyes and when he did, Craig kissed him softly. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Understand?"_

_Tweek nodded, his expression grateful. Craig could swear he saw Tweek's trust in him grow in that moment. Craig was shocked to discover that was more important to him than sex could ever be._

"Dude!" Token yelled, snapping his fingers in front of Craig's face. Craig shook his head, coming out of the memory. "Where'd you go, man? You looked like you were a million miles away."

Clyde snorted. "Probably fantasizing about Tweek. Bet you've gotten really good at that, what with no sex and all."

Craig smirked and kicked his foot out, catching Clyde in the stomach. The brunette bent over wheezing, while he and Token laughed.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

It was past two in the morning and the party was just now starting to wind down. The music still pumped through the night air and while a few people were still dancing and laughing, most had taken up more mellow pursuits. Some were already passed out, scattered around the house and sleeping on any available, soft surface. Some were secluded in bedrooms and closets, making out or hooking up with a fellow partier. Some were playing cards or other drinking games. Damien, Pip, Craig and Tweek were outside on the back porch, occupying the patio furniture and drunkenly chatting amongst themselves.

"Great party." Damien commented, taking another swig of beer.

"Fuckin' A." Pip giggled from Damien's lap. Damien grinned up at his boyfriend. He loved drunk-Pip; he had such a dirty mouth and an even dirtier imagination.

"It was great seeing everyone again. I can't believe school starts in just two weeks." Tweek mused.

"It'll be a great quarter, though. We've got biology together." Craig reminded him.

"Oh, yeah! That will be so –"

Tweek cut off as a voice sounded behind him. The entire foursome reacted simultaneously.

Damien's eyebrows shot up.

Pip's hand flew to his mouth.

Craig paled.

Tweek stiffened.

An unknowing bystander might have wondered why the group reacted so dramatically to a simple greeting, but the four boys knew it was so much more than that. Each person there knew that the newcomer was an unwelcome reminder of the past. They knew Craig had lied to Tweek. They knew he'd flirted with other guys in front of Tweek. They knew he'd torn Tweek down by comparing the blonde to his the new flavor-of-the-week. They knew he'd ditched Tweek to spend time with his boy toys. They knew he'd cheated on Tweek.

And though he'd done those things with a few different guys, he'd done most of it with this one. He'd done most of it with Thomas.

"Hey, Craig. SHIT-COCK!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**Okay, so quick poll of the audience, what do people think about the rating getting bumped up to a solid M? Should I do a reunion sex scene, in all its hot, steamy Creek glory? Or does that feel out of place to you guys? Let me know what you think, I want to take this story in the right direction. And, of course, the right direction is whatever direction you guys want to see!**

**Please read and review!**


	8. Ghost of Chances Past

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews of the last chapter! It really made this one a pleasure to write and made the words come a lot easier.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"It was…fuuuck…was goin' so well." Craig slurred drunkenly. He was sprawled out on top of the shelter's exam table with his cheek squashed against the cool metal and Slinky curled up contentedly between his shoulder and arm.

"There, there, asswipe." Damien said blandly, eyes never leaving his magazine.

"I was thiiiis close, dude." Craig mumbled, holding his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "This fuckin' close to…to getting' Tweek back and havin' ever'thing be all good again. And then that fucker, Thomas, had to go an'…and be a little _fucker_ and ruin it. Thiiis close, dude."

"Stop being a whiney little bitch, Tucker." Damien drawled, turning the page. "I'm trying to read here."

"W-what are you…why're you even here, man?"

"I'm here because you've guzzled enough hooch to bring down Charlie Sheen." Craig lifted his head from the table and raised an eyebrow. Damien huffed and rolled his eyes. "And because Pip made me. For some reason, he doesn't want you to drown in your own vomit. So here I am, babysitting your drunk ass."

"Oh. H-how the hell did he convince ya t'do that?"

"The little cock-tease knows how to motivate me."

"Gross. I don't wanna know."

"No, you probably don't." Damien just smirked, remembering Pip's whispered promise of professor/naughty schoolboy sex if he kept Craig out of trouble.

Craig sighed, letting his eyes fall shut. "You're sooo lucky, ya know that? Beautiful blonde waitin' at home for ya, ready to give ya gross fuckin' monkey sex. Bet Pip is a bunny between the sheets."

"Talk about my boyfriend again, Craig. See what happens."

Craig continued with his drunken ramble like he hadn't heard the Anti-Christ. "Tweek was a fuckin' demon in the sack. Did I ever tell ya that?"

Damien shuddered. "More than I ever wanted to know."

"S'weird to think…I'm never gonna sleep with him again. Or kiss 'im. Or hold 'im. Or…" Craig trailed off, his throat tightening.

"I swear, Craig, if you start singing 'All By Myself', I'm doing us both a favor and killing you." Damien warned.

"But I _am_ all by myself." Craig grunted, his voice sounding thick. To Damien's horror, he started humming the chorus of the forbidden song.

"Jesus Christ, you're pathetic." Damien shook his head, going back to his magazine and flipping the page angrily.

"He's gonna figure out he can do sooo much better than me and then Dylan's gonna catch him on the rebound and then I'll shrivel up into a dried-out, love-sick raisin like…like those fuckin' California Raisin commercials…I don't wanna be a raisin, dude. I fuckin' hate raisins."

Damien rolled his eyes at Craig's rambling. "Quit being so melodramatic. It's not like Tweek broke up with you."

"No, he jus' needed to _think_. He needed _space_." Craig groaned. "If that's not the fuckin' kiss of death, I dunno what is. I 'member what happened last time he had to _think_. H-hey…Hey, Damien?"

"What?" Damien sighed, putting down his magazine.

"He wouldn't…I mean, you don't think he'll leave again…do you?" Craig asked quietly.

"He's not about to be run out of town by a bad memory with an obscenity tic." Damien scoffed, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

"But he wouldn't let me explain. Wouldn't even let me touch him. He jus' walked away." Craig mumbled.

Silence filled the room; Damien nodded and Craig stared vacantly at the far wall. Both boys' thoughts wandered to the incident, only a few hours earlier.

"_Hey, Craig. SHIT-COCK!" Thomas greeted. Craig was frozen in place, clearly unable to think let alone say something back. Thomas rolled his eyes and filled in the conversation for the noirette. "Oh, hey Thomas. Good to see you. Been too long. What have you been up to? Seriously, Craig, stop me when I hit the mark."_

_Before the rest of his mind turned on and rational thought returned to him, Craig did greet him back…with his middle finger. It rose slowly and unconsciously; when Craig shook his head to rid it of his spaced-out stare, he looked vaguely surprised to see his finger at attention. The surprise was quickly taken over by a scowl and he glared at Thomas. _

"_Fuck off." Craig said monotonously, turning his back on Thomas and facing his circle of friends again. He glanced at Tweek from the corner of his eye, seeing the blonde's spine ramrod-straight and his whole body clenched. To his dismay, Thomas didn't take the not-so-subtle hint and instead, pulled up a chair to join them. _

"_Don't be a dick, Craig. AW, SHIT!" Thomas frowned, before forcing a cheery expression to his face. "So, I haven't seen you in a while. How've you been?"_

_Craig took in Tweek's pale, green-tinted face from his periphery and grimaced. "I've been better. I _will_ be better when you finally fuck off."_

_Thomas dropped the false optimism and narrowed his eyes at Tweek before returning his focus to Craig. "So, that's how it's going to be, huh? Asshole, ASSHOLE! You're back with Tweek and now it's like I never existed."_

"_Shut the hell up, Thomas." Craig warned dangerously. _

"_You want me to shut up?" Thomas demanded. Though his expression was fierce, the group could hear the pain in his voice. "What do you want me to shut up about, Craig? How you came to me whenever Tweek annoyed you – which, I might add, was often? How you fucked me – BITCH, SLUT-BITCH! – at school, in your car, on my bed? How we had sex on _your_ bed when the wet spot from you and Tweek fucking wasn't even dry yet? How you told me you loved me?"_

"_What?" Craig yelled. _

"_Oh, God." Tweek moaned, sounding sick. He stood up so fast, his chair tipped over. He stumbled to the back door of the house, but Craig went after him and grabbed his arm._

"_Tweek, I swear to God, I never said that to him." Craig stressed desperately. "You're the only one –"_

"_Don't." Tweek wrenched himself out of Craig's grasp, flinching away from the taller boy as though his touch alone was painful. _

"_Jesus Christ, Tweek, don't do this." Craig nearly begged. "Don't let him get to you. He's just a jealous asshole –"_

"_I am _not_ jealous of Tweek fucking Tweak!" Thomas fumed. "DICK! AW, SHIT-DICK!"_

"_Thomas, shut the fuck up! This has nothing to do with you!" Craig screamed. He turned back to Tweek, who had gone strangely still and whose face was now serenely blank. Craig panicked, knowing Tweek only got like this when he was pushed well beyond his limits. "Tweek, baby, stay with me, okay? You know I love you. I love you and _–_"_

"_I have to get out of here." Tweek said slowly, vacantly. "I can't do this. I have to get out of here."_

"_Yeah, leave; you're good at that." Thomas scoffed._

"_Thomas, shut your mouth! Just shut your god-damned mouth!" Craig roared hoarsely. "Tweek, don't pay any attention to him. Just listen to me, okay? This is all in the past. You know I'm not that guy anymore and no matter what that lying sack of shit says, you are the only person I've ever loved. You have to believe me."_

"_I –" Tweek said softly, still in his self-induced, protective stupor. "I can't…there's so much…I have to think…I can't do this right now."_

"_Tweek –" Craig pleaded._

"_I just…need some space." Tweek muttered. He shook his head, still frighteningly blank, and left._

"_Fuck!" Craig growled, moving to follow his boyfriend. Pip stepped forward and put a light, restraining hand on Craig's arm._

"_Craig_, _don't. Give him time." Pip said gently. Looking into Craig's stormy eyes and seeing worry beneath the surface, Pip patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry. I'll make sure he's okay."_

_Before Pip left, he pulled Damien aside. "Look out for Craig. He shouldn't be left alone right now."_

"_Pip, he's a big boy; he can take care of himself." Damien insisted, rolling his eyes._

"_Yes, because he's got such a pristine track record in that regard." Pip argued sarcastically. Damien inclined his head, conceding the point. He still looked reluctant, torn between wanting to look out for his friend and not wanting to admit he cared for Craig that much in the first place. Pip smirked, deciding to tip the scales in the right direction._

"_Please…professor." Pip purred seductively, pressing himself into Damien's body. He felt a pleasured shiver run through the demon at the seldom-played, but always-hot game of theirs. "I promise to behave and work hard for my good grades, if you just do this one little thing for me."_

"_Damn you." Damien whispered, unable to keep the grin off his face. "Fine."_

"_Thank you, love." Pip gave him a short, heated kiss before taking off after Tweek. When Damien finally looked away from the blonde's narrow, shapely behind to search out his apathetic friend, he groaned. Craig was trekking through the backyard, a bottle of Jack Daniel's tilted completely upside-down and the golden liquid running into his mouth with alarming speed._

How they ended up at the shelter, Damien still didn't know. Somewhere between Craig talking about murdering Thomas (Damien was impressed with the surprisingly workable plan) and lamenting ever coming to Bebe's reunion party, he'd gotten blind stinking drunk…again. He'd been drunk earlier in the evening, but it had mostly worn off by the time Thomas showed up. After the confrontation, Craig took to the bottle of Jack like it was mother's milk. Sometime around four in the morning, he'd set off through the dark streets of South Park and they'd wound up here.

Damien was hoping Craig would just pass out soon – God knows he consumed more than enough alcohol to do the trick – but when Damien heard an awful, out-of-tune sound, he knew he wouldn't be that lucky. The demon's face grew horrified as he focused on his trashed friend.

"All by myse-yyy-elf…don' wanna be…all by myself, anymore." Craig crooned out drunkenly, eyes closed and snuggling his face into Slinky's fur.

"Fucking hell." Damien grumbled to himself, going back to his magazine and doing his best to ignore Craig. "Pip better make this worth my while. Uniform, bowtie, the _works_."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Thomas honestly wasn't a bad guy. He didn't like seeing anyone in pain, not even Tweek. He didn't set out to purposefully hurt him either, not at the party and not when he'd first started hooking up with Craig. It just sort of happened that way. From the very beginning, things were bound to go to shit; that's what happens when two people are in love with the same man.

Yes, he was in love with Craig Tucker. He had been since middle school, before he really even understood what that meant. But when Craig had started dating Tweek, his anger and jealousy at the situation had made his true feelings abundantly clear.

He loved that Craig was so confident, so unbreakable. He loved that Craig liked him _because_ of his Tourette's, not in spite of it. He loved the mystery of him, how no one could penetrate the dense fog in his eyes that hid his feelings from the world. He loved how totally unselfconscious he was, not caring what anyone thought. He loved how blank his expressions were, because that made the small smirks and rare, dazzling grins in his direction that much more meaningful. He was in love. And he was also completely screwed. Craig and Tweek were obviously head-over-heels for each other and it ate Thomas up inside.

Why should Tweek get to have Craig? What made Tweek so special? Nothing! He was clingy and whiney, under-nourished and over-caffeinated; a paranoid, terrified insomniac! It infuriated Thomas how Craig either didn't notice or saw it all as adorable. But when the noirette's face started to grimace with annoyance, when his middle finger started flipping itself up around the once off-limits Tweek, Thomas felt like doing a victory dance. It was like a thousand angels were singing 'Hallelujah! Finally!' in his head! And, even better, Craig's attention's starting turning to _him_! Craig had flirted with him, teased him, seduced him so expertly, Thomas was a goner from the first kiss.

Thomas knew he wasn't the only one, but he _was_ the favorite. There were occasional flings and one-night stands, but Craig never put the effort into seducing anyone else that he had into seducing Thomas. That had to mean something, right? Their affair had to mean something to Craig, since he kept coming back. _He_ had to mean something to Craig, otherwise why would Craig bother? Throughout their time together, Thomas tried to get Craig to leave Tweek and see how much happier they could be if they were in a real relationship. The noirette would never consider it, though. He'd just tell Thomas to shut up or mind his own business. That desperation for Craig's sole attention became overwhelming, but by the time he was ready to confront Craig with it, Tweek had already broken his heart and left.

That need had simmered in him for a year, one very long year, while he was away at college. And tonight, seeing them back together, it spilled over like a tsunami. He couldn't help it, though part of him was embarrassed and shocked at the vindictive, cruel things he'd said. But love makes people do strange things and Craig was the only man he'd ever loved. Was it so much to ask for, to be loved in return? Did that make him a bad person, wanting that love for himself even knowing it belonged to someone else? And what now? Now that Tweek was back together with Craig, would he have to fight for his love? Should he?

He'd been walking around most of the night, trying hard to find answers and not getting very far. Dawn was approaching and the sky had started to lighten from pitch black to midnight blue. With the light of the gradual sunrise, he was able to see a figure sitting alone on a bench as he passed by Stark's Pond. The wild blonde hair was unmistakable. Thomas changed course and came up behind the bench.

"Tweek."

"Go away, Thomas." Tweek sighed. He'd only just managed to convince Pip to go home and was enjoying the solitude. Disregarding the boy behind him, Tweek stared out into the darkness and dwelled on the irony of his situation; he'd sat on this very bench, in this equally pensive mood, faced with the same decision, twice now.

Thomas ignored him and sat down on the opposite end of the bench. They sat together in silence for a while, until Thomas finally spoke. "You don't deserve him, you know."

"I'm not doing this with you, Thomas."

"You're not what he needs. Aw, SHIT!"

"I'm not doing this with you. I'm not going to fight with you over _Craig_."

"Because he's not worth fighting for?" Thomas baited.

"No." Tweek said slowly, clearly trying to reign in his anger. "Because I'm not a wino, white-trash housewife and this isn't an episode of Cheaters. I have more self-respect than that. I'm not defending my relationship with Craig to you, of all people."

"You _had_ him, Tweek." Thomas stressed. "You had him and you just gave up on him!"

"It was the other way around, actually."

"You left. SHIT-COCK! You should have stayed gone and let him move on with someone else."

"Someone like you?" Tweek snorted humorlessly.

"You're not the only one who loves him, you know!"

Tweek turned to Thomas, his eyes clear and certain. "But I'm the only one he loves."

Thomas' mind reeled with shock at the vicious truth of the words and the utter conviction in Tweek's eyes. It was more than he could take. Hearing his deepest doubts coming out of this boy's mouth – the boy who had the love of the man _he_ loved – was just too much. His hands started to shake, denial and anger racing neck-and-neck through his body.

"Bullshit!" Thomas hissed. "He loved me. COCK-SUCKER! _Loves_ me."

"Convinced yourself of that, have you?" Tweek wondered, not unsympathetically.

"I know it!" Thomas tried to convey the same certainty Tweek had, but his voice shook. "He loves me and I love him. You'll _never_ love him the way I do."

"You're right, because you love a Craig that doesn't exist. You love a Craig of your own making. He was a blank slate to you and you wrote your own desires onto him. You saw his void gray eyes and convinced yourself there was love in them. You saw his uncaring face and softened the edges in your mind, until it was gentle and caring." Tweek paused, shaking his head.

Thomas' love for Craig was so false and delusional; it made him realize just how genuine and rare their love was. He could feel every emotion he'd fought against crystallize and solidify in his head. He was starting to trust that everything Craig had been promising, everything he'd been trying to make Tweek believe, really was true.

"And do you know _why_ you had to imagine Craig?" Tweek continued. "Because he never gave you anything real. He saved that for _me_. He gave that to _me._ You love some idealized Craig mask; I love the nitty-gritty, ugly, _rawness_ of him. I love that I've seen him collapse in tears, when you've only gotten the unshakable Craig. I love that he's shown me all sides of himself – romantic, heartbroken, angry, playful, protective – when you've only seen his apathy. I love that we've talked about everything under the sun, when I'm sure you barely talked at all. I don't have to fight you for Craig, Thomas, because there's nothing here for you. Not a single shred of him belongs to you. He's already mine, completely."

Tears wobbled at the edge of Thomas's eyes, finally spilling over when he blinked against the cold wind. There was no way to defend against what Tweek had said. Oh, he was sure he could come up with a few logical, intellectual arguments, but they wouldn't mean a thing. Not when there was this pervasive, sickening _knowing_ welling up from the core of his being. He'd known all this already. On some level, he'd known, but he'd forced it down so he could live another day in the fantasy. It was a beautiful dream-world, where he was loved and accepted by Craig. The person in the fantasy, Craig, didn't matter nearly as much as the emotions. He was desperate to be seen as a person and not a neurological disorder, begging to be loved by someone, _anyone_. And Craig, being the first person to show him any admiration at all, had gotten all of Thomas' hopes and needs pinned onto him like some perverse game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey.

"Fuck-nut." Thomas breathed, twitching. Tweek couldn't tell if it was a tic of his Tourette's Syndrome or a sigh of defeat. "I've loved him for so long. It was…fuck, it was _so_ real…but, it wasn't, was it? I don't even know…what do I do now?"

Tweek shrugged. "No one knows better than me how crippling it can be to love Craig with your whole heart – even a romanticized version of him – and get nothing from him in return. That's why I left; because I realized that it's not real love unless someone loves you back."

Thomas nodded, feeling drained. "Tweek, I…"

"What?"

"I know we could never be cool, after everything that's gone down between us." Thomas started. "But I just want you to know that…that I'm sorry, for all of it."

Tweek gave a weak smile. "I appreciate that, but it wasn't just you. We all messed up: Craig cheated, you helped him cheat and I let it go on for far too long. We all got our hearts broken in the end."

"Do you think you could ever –"

"Forgiven." Tweek said simply, absorbing the pinks, oranges and reds of the rising sun.

"And Craig?" Thomas asked curiously.

"That's between me and Craig." Tweek said firmly. Thomas nodded; it wasn't for him to know or even wonder, not anymore. He rose from his seat and gave a single, slow nod before walking home. Tweek remained on the bench, letting the sunlight pour down on him once it crested over the mountains in the distance. Sighing heavily, he took out his cell phone and called a familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Craig?" Tweek replied.

"No, it's Damien. Craig's…indisposed."

Tweek rubbed his forehead, hearing Craig's grating singing voice in the background. "How drunk is he?"

"On a scale of 1-10, about 151. And that's not just a random number, that probably his blood-alcohol content."

"Where are you guys?"

"Shelter."

"I'll be there in ten."

"Oh, thank you!" Damien nearly sobbed in relief. "Tweek, I love you so much right now."

"Hold on to that feeling, because I'm going to need your help getting him home."

Damien paused. "Damn it."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Craig woke up, his movements sluggish and shaky. He gripped the sides of his head and curled up into the fetal position, groaning at the pain and then whimpering at the pain groaning caused him. Cracking his eyes open blearily, he didn't recognize his surroundings at first and froze in fear. His thoughts flew at the speed of light, thinking he'd gone home with some stranger and ruined his last chance with Tweek. But then he recognized the old fashioned bell-and-hammer alarm clock on the nightstand as belonging to the blonde. Next to the clock, there was a tall glass of water and three aspirin.

"Thank Christ." Craig rasped, reaching out a shaky hand. As he did, the door opened and Tweek walked in. There was an unnatural bounce to his step and he looked way too cheerful, considering how much they'd had to drink last night. The blonde smiled at his hung-over boyfriend.

"Afternoon." Tweek whispered, handing the glass and pills to Craig.

"Afternoon?" Craig questioned slowly, before gulping down the water greedily.

"Yeah. It's almost four o'clock."

"Jesus…what happened last night?" Craig groaned, settling himself back down on the pillows.

"What do you remember?"

Craig thought back over the night's events. Shaky's Pizza. Bebe's Party. Catching up with Token and Clyde. Shots with Pip. Dancing with Tweek. Beer bong with Damien. Grinding with Tweek. Laughing with Jimmy. Making out with Tweek. Smoking with Damien and Kenny. Talking with Damien, Pip and Tweek. Thomas coming –

"Oh, fuck! Thomas…and you…fuck, Tweek, I didn't know he'd be there!" Craig insisted, panicking.

"Craig, stop it. You'll make your headache worse." Tweek said gently, running a hand through the noirette's hair.

"You…you're not mad?"

Tweek shook his head. "Nope."

"But you left…to _think_." Craig emphasized dramatically, as if it were the worst thing Tweek could have done. Tweek laughed quietly.

"Yes, I did." He nodded, smiling. "But I'm done now and I've made a decision."

"About us?"

Tweek hummed in the affirmative, tucking Craig's covers in around him and picking up the empty glass. When he started walking through the door, Craig called out, "Well, are you going to tell me?"

"I'm not having the 'us' conversation when there's a chance you might throw up on me in the middle of it. Later, when you're feeling better." Tweek promised, shutting the door behind him.

Craig groaned, flopping back onto his pillows and running a hand over his eyes. "Fuck, I'm never drinking again."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**AHHH, cliffie! So close, but I just couldn't finish it in one chapter! Okay, so next chapter is going to be the last. If anyone has any thoughts for what they want to see, let me know! **

**Please read and review, I'd love to hear from you!**


	9. Chance Fulfilled

**Okay, guys, end of the road! Please note that the rating has changed for a reason. And sorry for the wait, but this was my first time writing a slash sex scene and it was harder than I thought. Please let me know what you think and if you have any tips for improvement I'd love to hear them! **

**Enjoy!**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Patience is a virtue, or so they say. Craig was not a patient man and 'they' could go fuck themselves with an iron stick for all he cared. Patience meant waiting. Patience meant waiting silently, alone in Tweek's room, where the only things to do were alternately groan in misery at his hangover and think.

One was a great distraction from the other, but both were a pain in his ass.

Damn Tweek for leaving him like this, worrying himself sick – well, sick_er _– over the fact that their future was hanging by a thread. Of course, he'd known they were on dangerous ground the second Thomas came into the picture. He'd expected tears, anger, fighting; he'd expected a cathartic exorcism of their past demons through a good, old-fashioned screaming match. What he wasn't expecting was Tweek's chipper mood and the almost peaceful air surrounding him as he announced he'd made a decision about their relationship. Most would take that as a good sign, but Craig wasn't about to fall for it.

Tweek was a wild card. Craig loved that about him; it meant he was spontaneous and untamed, able to get swept up in some random impulse like building a fort. That was one of Craig's favorite memories with the blonde, one he never could have shared with anyone else because only Tweek possessed that artless, sincere charm. But it was also one of the things Craig hated. Everyone knew he liked stability and routine, but Tweek defied any sort of pattern of behavior; he was unpredictable and his reactions could never be anticipated. So Craig wouldn't put it past the blonde to gently care for him after a night of binge-drinking and then break up with him with a sympathetic smile and a kiss to his cheek before shooing him out the door. Or maybe he'd pretend like the whole thing never happened and they'd never speak of it again. Or perhaps his serene behavior from earlier was just the calm before the storm and they'd fight it out like he thought.

Maybe Tweek was punishing him by making him wait! Tweek had to know that this would drive him crazy and he wanted Craig to suffer! But what for? So he could put him out of his misery by dumping him viciously? So he could make forgiving Craig that much more of a relief?

Each theory was as ridiculous and unlikely as the next, but nothing could be ruled out where Tweek was concerned.

"Fuck you." Craig groaned, not sure if that was directed at his overactive brain, his roiling stomach or Tweek.

As Craig curled even tighter into the fetal position, he admitted to himself that the reason for this stalling period was probably exactly what Tweek had said: Craig felt like shit and neither of them wanted to have the 'us' talk when he was a miserable bastard.

He was luckier than most; his body was built like a brick shit-house. He rarely got sick. He had a high tolerance for pain, heat and cold. Medications and caffeine had little effect on him. He was a serious heavy-weight when it came to alcohol. He had a cast-iron stomach, which was a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because he didn't throw up after drinking. It was a curse because he _couldn't_ throw up after drinking. Instead, he was left wanting to fucking _die_ for hours on end while his stomach bloated up like a water-logged corpse and his intestines tied themselves in unworkable knots. His head pounded unmercifully, his hands shook and his limbs were useless for anything but lying completely still. He slept fitfully, but couldn't get out of bed for at least twelve hours. This time it would probably be much longer, considering how much he had to drink last night.

His eyelids blinked heavily and his body relaxed its rigid bearing as he started to fall asleep. He sighed at the welcome sensation. At least when he was unconscious, he wouldn't have to worry about what his crazy, wonderful, unpredictable boyfriend had in store for him.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Tweek entered his apartment early Sunday morning, arms loaded with grocery bags. He started putting away the various items, but paused when he heard the shower running. He knew Kenny was at work, so figured Craig finally felt well enough to venture out of his bedroom. Part of him was glad it had taken Craig a full day to recover. He'd needed the time to get his head on straight.

This weekend had been rough on him. He'd been completely wrecked after hearing Thomas recount his and Craig's sex life at Bebe's party. He'd known about them, of course, but knowing about their affair in distant, undefined terms and having the details painstakingly laid out for him were two very different things. He'd been well on his way to forgiving Craig and making a new start with him. But what he was forgiving wasn't just a neat little file folder in his head labeled 'Cheating' anymore, filled with only snippets of gossip and his own unconfirmed suspicions. Suddenly, that file had exploded with hard facts and first-hand testimony. All of his pain from a year ago had flared to life again, once it had something real, tangible and present to latch itself onto.

It hurt. It fucking _hurt_, knowing that Craig would go fuck Thomas right after being with him. It hurt, knowing where and when and how often he'd had sex with Thomas. It hurt to imagine it, to see them together every time he closed his eyes. It hurt thinking of Craig kissing Thomas lovingly, in a way that had always made Tweek stay with him _just one more day_, even when he knew he shouldn't. It cut him to the quick to think of Craig whispering 'I love you' to Thomas in the dark as he moved inside of him. The logical part of him believed Craig when he denied ever saying that to Thomas; he wasn't one to throw those words around casually and up until recently, Tweek himself had only heard them a handful of times. But Tweek couldn't help torturing himself with what-if. What if he did say that to Thomas? Even worse, what if he meant it?

Tweek had thrown his whole being, the entirety of his soul, into loving Craig and it hadn't been enough. It was Craig's own demons, not any inadequacy on Tweek's part, which made that the case, but still…it was out there. He. Hadn't. Been. Enough.

It tore up his insides; the pain was literal and excruciating, as surely as if he'd swallowed a razor blade. How he'd found the strength through that stinging haze to not only explain the breathtaking truth of his love for Craig to Thomas, but also forgive him for being 'the other man' was a complete mystery even to him. Confronted with Thomas' weak, flimsy excuse for love had made it so obvious that what he shared with Craig was special.

But the rarity of their connection weighed against the horrible ache of the past was an ever-tipping scale, first favoring the strength of love and then tipping towards the burden of pain and back again. It wavered back and forth, never giving Tweek a clear outcome or an easy choice.

Hard as it was, though, Tweek had made his decision. After months of having his thoughts consumed by the issues of trusting and forgiving Craig, coming to any sort of resolution had brought him a sense of peace and contentment. The constant indecision and second-guessing had taken its toll; he felt like a heavy boulder had been sitting on his chest all this time, but now he could finally breathe again. Emerging from the fog of confusion and knowing what he wanted had him feeling a dizzying combination of freedom, power and relief. But more than that, it felt right.

The only thing left to do now was talk to Craig.

Tweek snorted as that thought coincided with the shower turning off.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." Tweek muttered to himself, balling up the now empty grocery bags and throwing them away. He went to work on fixing a new pot of coffee, all the while straining his ears to hear Craig's movements. There was the sound of bare, wet feet slapping against the cold tile floor, then the slight flapping of one of their oversized towels. Tweek bit back a groan, thinking of Craig – a _naked_ Craig – running the towel over his damp, heated body. The rustling of heavy fabric came next, followed by the quiet hum of a zipper being done up. Tweek's heartbeat sped up, knowing he'd be coming out soon. The bathroom sink turning on was next, accompanied by a few splashing sounds and a gargle from Craig. Tweek's body gave a forceful jerk and his breathing became rapid and shallow. Jesus Christ, he wasn't ready for this!

The bathroom door opened.

"_Ngh_!" Tweek panicked, flinging coffee grounds all over the counter top when a twitch overcame him. He hurriedly scooped them over the side and into his cup-shaped hand, pouring them back into the coffee container.

Now there were footsteps padding quietly through the hall. Tweek held the edge of the counter in a white-knuckle grip and squeezed his eyes shut. His body froze up, the anticipation crippling him to a state of immobility. Each sound was amplified and his trembling grew worse as they drew nearer.

The creak of a loose floorboard. Ten feet away.

The quiet sweep of feet over carpet changing to the audible slap of soles on tile. Five feet away.

A tense throat clearing. Right outside the room.

A hand on the swinging door of the kitchen.

The hinges squeaking as the door swung open.

_Breathe_.

"Tweek."

It took every ounce of will power to force his body to turn around. But he did and seeing Craig at the doorway to the kitchen, his mouth went dry. His pounding heartbeat and rapid breathing became less about nervousness and more about absolute, unadulterated _need_ as a spike of lust ran through him. Craig's hair was still wet from his shower and the occasional droplet of water fell from it, streaking down his exposed chest. He wore only a faded pair of jeans, slung low and exposing the hard angles of his hipbones. Tweek met Craig's eyes, the quicksilver irises sending a shameless, lustful spasm trembling through his body. He forced himself to maintain the eye-contact and breathe steadily, though the need to heave in gulps and gasps of air with hyperventilating speed was almost unbearable. Those eyes, able to read him and calm him and _see_ him in way no one else could, made him want to skip their talk and just beg Craig to fuck him. In his head, he was already doing just that as his eyes raked up and down Craig's sinful body.

_Fuck me like you used to. Fuck me right here, right now. Fuck me like it's the first time. Hell, fuck me like it's the last time. Please, just fuck me now, before it all changes._

Tweek knew everything was about to change for them and even though the past few months had been leading inexorably to this point, now that it was here, it felt too fast, too soon. He wanted just one more time with Craig before closing this chapter, to feel his solid weight on top of him. He wanted that reminder of how good they were together, to feel his hips leave his conscious control and surge faster and harder toward Craig's with undeniable instinct. He wanted to hear the music of their bodies just one more time: the hushed whisper of fingertips over flesh, the clashing strike of their hips, the meeting and parting of moist, greedy lips, muttered pleas and strangled groans, bed springs and rustled sheets, _oh, God_ and _more, please_ and _yes, yes, YES_!

Tweek shook his head, trying to clear it from his dazed state and failing miserably. "Morning." he said, his voice rough and strained. "Feeling better?"

Craig shrugged. He entered the kitchen with a slow, casual pace but stopped when there was still half a room between them. "That depends on you, I guess. You said you decided something."

Tweek nodded absentmindedly, closing the remaining distance between them. "I have." he breathed, moving towards Craig as if in a trance, as though some unknown force was pulling him. He stopped in front of Craig and ran his fingers over the expanse of muscled flesh.

Craig shuddered at the feeling of Tweek's soft, cool hands on his flushed skin. He'd recognized the look in Tweek's eye when he'd come into the room and it had been a fucking struggle not to smirk, but triumphant smugness was definitely _not _what he was feeling right now. He felt shivery and hot all at once. He felt weak and stripped bare. He felt moments away from snapping and taking Tweek hard and fast against the nearest surface. He felt…

He felt Tweek's lips attack his. The pressure was bruising, the heat was overwhelming, the feeling was beyond bliss. Craig groaned, his eyes closing involuntarily as he fell into the kiss. One of his hands gripped Tweek's hip, crushing their lower halves together. Tweek let out a small cry against his lips, opening his mouth enough for Craig to steal inside. The taste of him, so familiar and warm, sent Craig into a frenzy. He pinned Tweek against the counter, settling himself between Tweek's spread legs. He ground against the blonde, alternating between hard and sharp thrusts and slow, strained circling. He detached from the blonde's mouth for half a second, long enough to tug Tweek's shirt over his head. It got stuck around his ears, but Tweek yanked it off and threw it across the room, finding Craig's lips a heartbeat later.

"Need you." Tweek whimpered against Craig's lips, one hand buried in the noirette's hair and the other gripping his ass as he rutted against him. "So bad. Fuck me. Need you. _Please_!"

Craig could hear the desperation, the borderline hysteria in Tweek's pleas, as though the world would end if they stopped. As though, if he didn't get it now, he never would again. As though this was the last time.

Craig's eyes snapped open at the thought. Is that what this was? Some last hurrah? He'd come out of the bathroom, expecting to talk and hear what Tweek had decided. But instead the blonde had pounced on him the second he came into the room. Tweek knew where their relationship was going, but Craig was in the dark and he didn't like it. He couldn't stand the thought of having Tweek like this, only to have it be the last time.

"Wait." Craig breathed hotly into Tweek's mouth. He groaned, his self-control pushed to the limit when Tweek chose that moment to roll his nipple between his thumb and forefinger while nibbling on his bottom lip. "Fuck, wait. Just wait a second!"

"No!" Tweek hissed, lowering his head to nip at Craig's collarbone. "Waited too long. Fuck me, Craig. Fill me, stretch me, make me yours, make me beg for it, make me scream, I'm begging you, baby, please! Fuck me like it's been too long! Fuck me like you'll never fuck me again!"

Craig's head tipped back as Tweek sucked on his neck, his expression one of dire agony. He was near tears, as the need to take Tweek _right fucking now_ battled with the need to know they were going to be okay and that this wasn't a one-time thing.

"God-damn it, Tweek, just…fuck, just wait a minute!" Craig begged. With unparalleled, inhuman strength of will, Craig tore himself away from Tweek and stumbled back on shaky legs until he bumped into the table. Tweek let out a cry, something bereft and needy, as Craig separated them.

"Wha-what the hell?" Tweek yelled, his confusion, frustration and lust mixing together to create anger.

"I can't…" Craig started, only to shake his head in an attempt to think straight. "I can't do this. Not if this is what I think it is."

"Craig, I'm ready to fucking explode here! Now's not the time for riddles!" Tweek burst out, his tone some oddly erotic combination of begging and demanding.

"Is this goodbye sex?" Craig blurted out. "'Cause I can't do that. I can't have you now, knowing I won't have you later. So if you're going to break up with me, just fucking do it already!"

"W-what?" Tweek shouted in frustration, as though that were the most absurd thing he'd ever heard. "I can't fucking believe…after I just fucking…WHAT?"

"Just tell me. Just get it over with, Tweek. Put me out of my misery. Are you breaking up with me?" Craig asked dejectedly.

"Are you freaking serious? After all that?" Tweek asked, gesturing to the counter he'd been pinned against not a minute ago.

But Craig knew Tweek jumping his bones was no indication that they were okay. He'd said it before and he'd say it again: Tweek was wholly unpredictable and he couldn't assume anything where the blonde was concerned. Just because Tweek had a hard-on for him and wanted to fuck him, didn't mean they weren't breaking up. So Craig remained silent and continued to look at him, his eyes half-hopeful and half-defeated.

Tweek deflated at the look and sighed, resigning himself to talking rather than screwing Craig's brains out. He took Craig's hand and led the noirette into the living room. He sat down on the couch, patting the seat next to him so Craig would do the same. After Craig sank down into the cushions, Tweek turned to him.

"If you want to talk, if you want to know where my head's at, then fine. But I have some things I need to get out and I need you to not interrupt me, okay?" Tweek started.

Craig let out a shaky exhale and swallowed hard. This was it. This was the end of it. It was the end of this chapter of their relationship, if not the end of their relationship entirely. It felt like he was laid bare on a table, a swinging axe being lowered closer and closer to his body. There was a heavy sense of change in the room and Craig knew that nothing would be the same at the end of this conversation. He could only hope there would be more chapters after this, more of his and Tweek's story to be written, instead of a bitter and unsatisfying finale.

"Okay." Craig nodded firmly, engulfing Tweek's hand with his and linking their fingers together.

Tweek smiled wanly at the contact and squeezed Craig's hand. The frustration of his unfulfilled lust began to melt away, replaced by the peace and contentment that came from knowing he was making the right decision.

"I know most of what you did the last time we were together." Tweek said. "I know you cheated on me and I need you to know how that felt. Seeing Thomas the other night…it defied description. Nothing in my life prepared me for what to feel when I heard him talking about being with you. How are you supposed to feel when you're faced with the narrative of the worst period of your life? Even worse, the person who told it is the person who helped you hurt me so intentionally and so effortlessly, like my stupidity and blind trust was something you laughed over together."

"Tweek, I never –" Craig choked out.

"Craig, _please_." Tweek said desperately, needing to get this out. Craig fell silent and brought both of his hands to hold one of Tweek's. "It was worse than painful, like being in space without a helmet and feeling your blood boil and your lungs collapse and your skin freeze and feeling your heart explode from the pressure of it all. It brought everything back, Craig. It brought back how worthless I felt. It brought back the sadness and confusion, the anger and hopelessness. I've relived every cruel moment, two years worth of memories condensed into a single day of reflection. But I'm glad for it, I really am, because now I know what I want. And this decision isn't just about our relationship, it's about the type of person I want to be. It all comes down to this: I'm not doing this anymore."

Craig paled, looking stricken. He stayed silent, not out of deference to Tweek's request, but because his voice had been shocked away.

Tweek continued, oblivious to Craig's inner turmoil. "I'm not doing this anymore. I'm not going to be _that guy_ anymore. I'm not going to be the guy that says he forgives you and then punishes you for the past every time there's a reminder of it. I can't do it. I _won't _do it. So, I'm done. I'm done with this holding pattern we've been in. I'm done blaming you for the past and you need to be done apologizing for it. I'm done pretending that I'm not intensely, fantastically in love with you. I'm done holding myself back from you because I'm afraid of history repeating itself. I'm just…I'm done."

Tweek finished, feeling an exhilarated _whoosh_ escape his lungs and an unrestrained, liberated laugh bubble out of him. Craig looked stunned and speechless. Tweek swung his leg over Craig's thighs to straddle him. Cupping the noirette's face in his hands, he lifted his love's head until Craig's silver eyes were locked with his own brown ones. Tweek smiled down on him beautifully.

"I love you." Tweek stated softly. "I love you. I trust you. I forgive you. I want to be with you, more than anything."

Everything was still and silent for a moment. Craig's lungs felt like they were being compressed; he exhaled every breath left in him, but still, oxygen escaped him in small, heaving bursts. He blinked rapidly and his eyes roamed without focus. His head fell to Tweek's chest while the rest of him was gasping and trembling, breathless and overwhelmed. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, slipping down his face. He felt the blonde's fingers running through his hair and the other hand moving up and down his back comfortingly. A choked cry escaped Craig. He tried to keep himself together, but the tighter he tried to hold his control, the more he realized that he had no control over this at all. Soon, he was sobbing against his boyfriend's chest, both arms wound tightly around his waist.

Just like Tweek had, Craig relived the past two years, only he didn't have the luxury of a day. Everything was experienced and expelled in this one moment, through wet, salty tears and raw, aching sobs. His cruelty, selfishness, coldness, and apathy had caused him lose Tweek once. For months after Tweek left, he'd punished himself for it: berating himself daily for his stupidity, loathing himself to the point of sickness, surrendering to the lonely feelings of being unworthy and undeserving. Added to that was the staggering power of his empathetic pain, feeling everything he'd put Tweek through as though he'd gone through it himself. He wasn't so afraid of losing Tweek again that he wasn't going to try to get him back, but he'd been terrified after he and Tweek started dating again. That fear was like a slick, evil voice whispering in his head: hissing that something so wonderful couldn't possibly last, that he didn't deserve to be so happy, that he couldn't help but screw it up again. He was terrified that one misstep – the Thomas clusterfuck being a _huge _misstep – and he'd be right back in that desolate, dark place.

And if Tweek was anyone else, he knew he probably would be. But Tweek was Tweek: more compassionate and sure and resolved than anyone he knew. It was a tragic twist of fate that most people would see his forgiveness as weakness of character, but it took incomparable amounts of strength to be the bigger person and just let it all go. Tweek had let go of the pain, the anger, the blame and the sadness so that they could move forward together. And in this moment, bawling against Tweek's chest, Craig was doing the same. He'd carried it around for so long, it had become a part of him and stuck to his insides like tar. But Tweek's forgiveness washed away the pain. His trust erased the fear. His strength fed Craig's strength, making him stronger than his doubts. Tweek's love chased away the feelings of worthlessness.

"I love you." Craig sobbed against Tweek, his voice catching and throat convulsing reflexively. "Oh God, I love you so much. Please don't leave. I need you. Don't ever leave. I love you so much. I'm so sorry."

"Shh." Tweek hushed him, misty-eyed and choked up himself. "No more apologizing, remember? I forgive you. It's done. It's all in the past."

"You're everything. You're _more_." Craig rasped, not even sure what that meant but somehow knowing it was true.

"Only when I'm with you." Tweek whispered. "You're so much a part of me, I'm not myself without you. I love you so, so much. Please don't cry. Don't be sad."

"I'm not sad." Craig said, sniffling. And he wasn't, despite the fact that he was crying like a ten year-old girl. He was just so _relieved_. Tweek loved him. Tweek trusted him. Everything he'd been working towards for months, everything he'd been desperate to have for more than a year, was finally here and real. He'd been given a chance and now it had been fulfilled.

Craig wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and took a deep, shaky breath. When he finally felt more in control, he looked up at Tweek, seeing his wet brown eyes and trembling smile. Craig leaned forward, meeting the blonde's lips with languid passion. He'd meant for the kiss to convey everything he was feeling: gratitude, love, relief, and joy. He'd meant to kiss the love of his life slowly, deeply, expressively.

But both seemed to become sensitized and electrified with the brief meeting of their lips, their need for each other sparking to life once again. Tweek became aware of Craig's bare, damp chest pressed hotly against his. Craig became aware of Tweek's hips shifting into his, feeling the friction and heat created between their hungry, impatient bodies.

In an instant, the gentle care of their soft kiss revved up into something needy and irrepressible. Tweek's lips left Craig's for a split second, just long enough to slant them over the other's mouth and deepen the kiss. Craig's slick, velvety tongue invaded his mouth and Tweek whimpered, twisting and tangling his own against it. Tweek plunged one hand into the thick of Craig's hair while the other worked up and down his chest, trying to feel and savor every inch of skin. Craig gripped Tweek's hips roughly and the blonde moaned at the sensation of the strong, calloused hands holding him securely as the noirette began grinding them down onto his own hips. Tweek wanted to cry, it was so good.

"More, now, faster, please!" Tweek mumbled, going for Craig's zipper.

Craig chuckled darkly against Tweek's neck, nipping at the skin savagely and then soothing the wounds with his tongue. He'd never get tired of Tweek's delirious, rambling pleas during sex; he wasn't even sure Tweek was aware he did it, but it never failed to light a fire in his blood. It was a heady, potent aphrodisiac to know Tweek was so achingly desperate for him, almost as much as he was for Tweek.

Without a word and without moving Tweek from his lap, Craig stood from the couch with his hands gripping Tweek's ass firmly. The blonde didn't stop sucking on Craig's pulse point at the movement, only coiled his legs tighter around Craig's waist. Craig stumbled and tripped through the living room, but he couldn't be blamed for a lack of coordination when a hot blonde was wrapped around him, kissing his neck, running a thumb over his nipple and – _oh, hell yeah_! – sticking a hand down his pants.

Finally making it to the bedroom, he dumped Tweek onto the bed unceremoniously. He straightened for a moment, staring down at the luscious, turned-on blonde, before crawling up Tweek's body and finding his lips again.

His eyes flew open in shock when Tweek flipped them over, pinning Craig to the bed. Tweek grinned wickedly, something that had an embarrassingly needy moan escaping the noirette. Tweek, clearly done with the light and teasing foreplay, practically ripped Craig's jeans and boxers down the length of his legs and flung them onto the floor. Craig's breathing hitched at the look on Tweek's face: dark with some hungry and uncontrollable wildness.

"Christ, I'm gonna fucking eat you alive." Tweek purred, staring at his cock and licking his lips.

Craig let out an obscene, loud groan, which cut off with a gasp as Tweek gripped his cock at the base. Slowly, agonizingly, Tweek moved his soft hand up and down Craig's rock-hard shaft. Craig watched with breathless anticipation as Tweek's sweet, amazingly talented mouth approached the head of his cock. He felt the warm breath ghost across the sensitive skin and his body jerked as a trail of pre-cum seeped out of him. Tweek's lips parted just above the head and Craig bucked his hips upward, desperate for the contact.

But Tweek, the fucking tease, bypassed the head altogether and traced down his shaft with wet, open-mouthed kisses. When he reached the base, his tongue traced the throbbing vein back up to the tip.

"Fuck, Tweek, please!" Craig panted, the sheet balled up tightly in his fists. Finally, mercifully, he felt Tweek's hot mouth engulf him. "AHH! Holy shit!"

Tweek grinned around the tip of Craig's dick before bobbing lower. He took an inch, before moving back up. Then two inches and back to the head. Three, four, five, cheeks hollowed out, and then back to the tip. Six, then changing direction again with his tongue trailing along the underside of his cock. Seven and just a bit further, then his nose buried in the coarse curls at the base. He returned to the tip, swirling his tongue over the ridges of the head and the leaking slit in the middle. Craig was nothing but a writhing mess beneath him, at one moment cursing him viciously for his teasing and the next, begging him not to stop.

Tweek continued with his exquisite torture, while one hand undid the button and zipper on his pants. He shimmied out of his jeans and boxers, kicking them off the end of the bed and gripping his own aching cock. He groaned at the feeling and Craig yelled hoarsely at the vibrations it sent through him. He pumped his cock a few more times before releasing his hold and brought his hand to grip the base of Craig's dick. He lined two of his fingers up along Craig's shaft and went down on him over and over again, coating his fingers with saliva in the process. Reaching between his own legs, Tweek circled his hole a few times before thrusting a finger inside.

"Jesus Christ, Tweek." Craig rasped, eyeing Tweek's display with feverish, ravenous eyes. "God-damn…you're so fucking hot. You should see yourself right now…f-fucking gorgeous, baby."

Tweek moaned, Craig's words making his cock twitch and grow even harder. Leaning back slightly and spreading his legs, Tweek added a second finger into his tight hole.

Craig's head fell back with a groan at the sight, but he lifted off the pillow again only a second later so he could keep watching. Tweek rocked back and forth, fucking himself onto his hand relentlessly. Groans and cries erupted from his mouth, which was still sucking Craig's cock. The vibrations from those sexy, sweet noises pulsated through his bones and hit the base of his spine, making him buck his hips upward into Tweek's hot, wet mouth. Tweek was equally enraptured, watching Craig lose himself to the sensations with feral abandon. Between the sight Craig was making, his own fingers driving in and out, and his painfully erect dick, Tweek couldn't take anymore. Releasing Craig from his mouth with a slight pop, Tweek crawled up Craig's body.

"Need you." was all Tweek said. That was all he had to say. With a growl, Craig flipped them over until Tweek was on his back. Tweek was stretched enough from his own fingers and Craig was lubed enough from Tweek's blowjob that he wasted no time. Lining his cock up with Tweek's puckered hole, Craig pushed inside of him slowly.

"Ngh!" Tweek whined, squirming his hips to get more of Craig inside him. Craig had other ideas, though. He fingers dug into Tweek's hips, pinning him to the bed and immobilizing Tweek's staccato pushes against him. He wanted this to last. He wanted Tweek to be an incoherent, shivering wreck before giving him the furious, merciless fucking he was begging for.

He drove forward slowly, drawing out the pleasure for both of them. He slid home inch by inch, angling himself so that the length of his dick dragged against Tweek's prostate. Once buried to the hilt inside the love of his life, Craig stared down at Tweek. The blonde met his heated gaze and the whole world seemed to stop. This was _Tweek_ beneath him and surrounding him. He'd been so terrified that it would never be like this between them again and yet, here they were. The lay there together, panting, until Craig slid back out all the way to the head. Tweek's gasps and pleas rang in his ears like an angelic chorus.

Over and over, he pushed forward at the searing, torturous pace. Slow, tightly-reigned thrusts into Tweek's body that left them both shaking: Tweek with devastating need and Craig with rigid, almost painful control. Craig's ass clenched and unclenched as he drove home with languorous, piercing thrusts. Tweek's hands dug into his ass cheeks, trying to force him to speed up, but Craig maintained the same tempo.

Soon, their bodies were slicked with sweat and gliding along one another. Drops beaded on Craig's forehead and Tweek's hair was damp with it, but still, Craig didn't relent. He leaned forward, kissing Tweek hungrily and was met with the same passion from the blonde. Attaching his lips to Tweek's neck, Craig licked at the salty-sweet skin and bit at the tender flesh. Tweek was nearly sobbing at this point, beyond begging, beyond words altogether.

A euphoric ache spread through Craig, seeing him like this. He needed Tweek to be his. He needed to know it and be absolutely convinced of it. He needed Tweek to _say_ it.

_Thrust…thrust…thrust…_

"Do you want me?" Craig murmured, panting above Tweek.

"Yes!" Tweek cried out, wriggling his hips to get them free of Craig's iron hold. Craig sped up minutely.

_Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. _

"Do you need me?"

"God, yes!"

_Thrustthrustthrust._

"Do you love me?" Craig demanded, driving harder and harder into the willing, writhing boy beneath him.

"Oh, God." Tweek sobbed, thrashing his head from side to side. "Yes! Fuck, yes!"

"Say it." Craig growled.

"I love you!" Tweek exclaimed.

"Swear it!"

"I swear it! I love you!"

"SCREAM IT!" Craig barked huskily, finally releasing Tweek's hips.

"I LOVE YOU!" Tweek screamed frantically. Planting his feet flat on the mattress, Tweek lifted his hips high and fucked himself onto Craig's cock with frenzied, uncontrollable speed. Craig moaned, both from Tweek's hips driving into his and the desperate declaration.

"I love you." Craig rasped, gripping Tweek's cock and pumping it quickly.

"Oh, God, Craig!" Tweek yelled. "More, more, more! Please! Fuck me! Harder!"

"Tweek!" Craig shouted, pounding into him like a jackhammer until the bed was shaking and squeaking under the strain.

"Craig, please, I'm so close. I'm gonna –" Tweek cut off with a hoarse scream, his back arching off the bed. Craig continued jacking Tweek's cock, until cum shot over the blonde's stomach and chest in bursts. The sight of Tweek losing himself was more than Craig could take. Thrusting in hard, short thrusts, Craig came with a guttural cry. He held himself still over Tweek as he continued to cum in spurts, riding out his orgasm before collapsing on top of the exhausted blonde.

Gasps were the only sounds left in the room as both boys lay still, completely spent…for now.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Kenny unlocked his apartment door after a long shift at the only garage in town, intent on a beer and some mindless TV. He stepped into the apartment, heading straight for the fridge, but stopped in his tracks when a shout rang out across the house.

"Fuck, Tweek, do that again!" Craig groaned loudly.

Kenny raised an eyebrow, a lecherous grin taking over his face. A good roommate, or at least an uncomfortable roommate, would probably leave and give them some space. But he was Kenny McCormick. Grabbing a beer, he headed into the living room and sat on the recliner, which happened to face both his and Tweek's bedroom doors. Snapping the top of his beer and taking a noisy slurp of the liquid, he sat back and listened.

"Ah, Craig!"

"Fuck, baby, you're so fucking good."

Kenny smirked. "Hot. Totally hot."

Grabbing his phone, he dialed Damien.

"What's up, Kenny?" Damien answered.

"Feel like coming over and playing a drinking game?" Kenny asked.

"Sure, dude. Which one?"

"The best one." Kenny replied. He could practically hear Damien's face stretching into an evil grin. Damien knew _exactly_ which game he was talking about.

"Me and Pip will be there in ten."

"Awesome."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Craig and Tweek were exhausted. And hungry. They'd had sex on and off throughout the day, only breaking to use the bathroom or take short cat-naps. Climbing off the bed, they dressed unhurriedly in between giving each other lingering kisses. Finally, they opened Tweek's bedroom door only to be greeted with the sight of three very inebriated friends.

"So, wait." Pip slurred, his brow furrowed. "Which variation are we playing now?"

"Sex-phrase." Kenny declared, blinking unevenly. "We each pick a phrase. Like I pick Tweek to yelp, 'Oh, Jesus!' and Damien picks Craig to say 'Fuck, baby.' and you pick Tweek to say 'More, more, more.' Whichever one we hear first, the person who picked that phrase wins and the other two have to take a shot."

"Oh!" Pip chirped happily. "I like that better than the last one. Or was it the one before that? You know, the one where we all drink when one of them cums and then the last person to take their shot has to take another one."

"That was the first game." Damien smirked.

"What the fuck is going on here!" Craig barked. The three jumped, not realizing Craig and Tweek had come out.

"Dude!" Kenny greeted enthusiastically, stumbling to get up. He staggered over to Craig, slapping him on the back. Damien got up to join them and Tweek went to sit down by Pip. "You're a fucking stallion, you know that?"

"Seriously." Damien agreed. "That was some epic marathon fucking. Got us shitfaced in a hurry, that's for sure."

While Damien and Kenny were congratulating Craig on his stamina, Pip poured a shot for Tweek. Raising his own glass, the two toasted silently and downed their drinks. Pip raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile on his face. Tweek smirked back and shared a fist bump with the blonde. Let Damien and Kenny think Craig was the sex machine. He and Pip knew the score.

Unfortunately for the blondes, Kenny caught the act and grinned. "Cheeky bastards. What the fuck are we praising this tool for? Tweek's the one that kept revving him up!"

Craig chuckled. "True story."

Craig moved to join his boyfriend and all five of them sat in a circle, switching to a different, not-Tweek/Craig-sex-based drinking game. Pulling Tweek onto his lap, Craig rested his chin against Tweek's shoulder. Tweek looked down on him and Craig couldn't help but smile at the love shining from his eyes. While their friends were distracted and laughing drunkenly at something, Craig kissed Tweek gently.

"Thank you." Craig whispered.

Tweek's brow furrowed in confusion. "For what?"

"For giving me a chance."

Tweek kissed him. "Thanks for making the most of it."

"You know this is forever, right?" Craig asked seriously, searching Tweek's eyes. Tweek smiled down on him.

"Yeah." Tweek sighed happily, leaning back against his boyfriend. "I know."

**The End**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**And so ends **_**Chances**_**. Thanks for sticking with the story this long and thanks to all the amazing people who've reviewed along the way! Please Read and Review, I love hearing your thoughts!**

**~Fate Harbor**


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